


The Lake House AU

by Outofthegarden



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - The Lake House (2006) Fusion, Alternate Universe - Time Travel, Anya & Lexa Are Siblings (The 100), Architect Lexa (The 100), Chicago (City), Do not post without permission, Doctor Clarke Griffin, Endgame Clarke Griffin/Lexa, F/F, Modern Setting Clarke Griffin/Lexa, POV Clarke Griffin, POV Lexa (The 100), Time Travel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-01
Updated: 2020-11-29
Packaged: 2021-03-04 01:14:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 19
Words: 51,809
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24961378
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Outofthegarden/pseuds/Outofthegarden
Summary: Is it possible to fall in love with someone you've never met?Clarke is a lonely doctor who starts exchanging letters with the previous owner of the house where she used to live.Lexa is a frustrated architect who grows attached to the letters she receives in her mailbox from a mysterious and stubborn woman who claims to write from another timeline.Somehow, between the lines, they develop feelings for each other.How do you hold on to someone who lives two years apart from you?
Relationships: Abby Griffin & Clarke Griffin, Anya & Lexa (The 100), Clarke Griffin & Raven Reyes, Clarke Griffin/Lexa
Comments: 264
Kudos: 383





	1. Welcome to your new home

**Author's Note:**

> Here we are again with another Clexa rom-com AU; this time inspired on The Lake House. Enjoy!
> 
> Forever grateful to my beta [underthecovers](https://archiveofourown.org/users/underthecovers/pseuds/underthecovers)  
> Don't forget to check out her stories.

Chapter I

She stood watching the sun as it dipped below the horizon, and in her heart, she feels that it is one of the most enchanted moments of the day. 

In this house, the sunset was a time where the sun merged with the surrounding environment, which became so quiet and still while bathing the inside walls with gold and dusky light. There was a hint of magic to it, and after so many evenings just like this one, where she was enjoying a landscape that has quickly become one of her favorite things.

The floor-to-ceiling windows gave the space a blinding light during most of the day and a sense of lightness thanks to the incredible lake surrounding the house. It was as if the person who created the place wanted to feel the water’s volatility within and without.

And that’s how she’s been for the last half hour. Floating around in her soon to be former living room completely lost in her own thoughts.

She sees her reflection in the glass panels that separate her from the lines of aureate swirling the edges of the lake. Her petite form seems romantic in the lush lighting and though she’s now in her thirties, she barely looks like she’s out of her teens. Her curly hair sits above her shoulders and is burnished bright in the glow of dying light. Her eyes, which are normally the color of deep seas and storms, seem fractured and dark. 

They could tell a story. 

She feels the softness of her washed denim jeans and Bordeaux cardigan against her skin, and it’s a comfort. The black beaten Converse she’s wearing are old friends that complement her ensemble. Her face is make-up free and if you peer close enough, you can clearly see some freckles dusting the bridge of her nose.

She looks exhausted, but her stature holds a powerful beauty. After a few more minutes, the woman lets escape a tiny sigh and one last glance before walking toward the door. As she is about to grab the doorknob, a dog interrupts the silence and stills her hand. The unknown companion looks about two or three years old, an Australian shepherd with brown and white fur and pale blue eyes. The woman scratches the dog behind her ear, who barks excitedly in response.

Soon enough she opens the door expecting to be followed by the canine who stays motionless and waits within the house, her head tilted at her human. But the woman isn’t moving back.

She looks at the dog and lets out an exasperated sigh.

“Are you coming or not?”

Once the dog realizes she’s going too, she jumps up happily and follows her human out to the car.

The furry friend takes the front seat next to the driver since the car is full of boxes and there’s not much room. Before they’re ready to take off, the woman seems to remember something important and jumps out of the car with a white envelope clasped tight against her chest.

She places it in the mailbox and raises the red flag. She glances one last time at the house. It is a magnificent construction built on the lake. It looks like a crystal edifice as there are no single walls in it which creates a pleasant atmosphere. There are only two ways to get into the house: the first one through a small private deck beneath the structure of the main house and the second one is via a small footbridge. The house is mostly isolated, but it has been cleverly designed to integrate with the lake, and the trees surrounding it gives it a much-needed warmth.

The aesthetic is spectacular, and she will definitely miss it.

But that’s life. To keep your balance, you must keep moving.

* * *

It was a frosty morning in January and a blue Ford truck full of boxes approaches the very same house. A tall and slim figure gets out of the vehicle and saunters toward the entrance.

Once there, she stays frozen looking at her new soon to be home.

The trees around the lake have seen better days, and the snow was yet to melt in some spots. The house looks austere with darkened clouds surrounding it and the trees bare of leaves stand like aging sentinels in the dawn light. It isn’t the best vantage or first impression of the house, but the young woman smiles to herself, admiring every inch of the landscape.

“Yes. This will do.”

* * *

She is late.

It is her first day at her new job, and she is late.

Not the best image for her new bosses but what can she say, a series of unfortunate events have littered her day from the very first moment since waking up.

So, here she is running for her life grabbing her scrubs and white coat and praying she has a moment to change clothes before she has to start.

“Dr Debnam to ER, stat.”

She approaches the nurse’s desk and waits patiently until one of them without sparing her a glance shoves a paper at her face.

“Fill this out for me and wait over there until someone calls your name, ok? Thank you.”

The woman stares at the nurse, her mouth slightly ajar as she stares speechless for a moment.

“No, ma’am,” she says with a quiet but steady voice, “I’m Dr Griffin. I was told to report here. It’s my first day.”

The nurse finally lifts her head and locks eyes with the young doctor.

“Oh! I’m sorry, Dr Griffin. As you can see we are a bit overwhelmed at the moment. Let me page Dr Reyes. She’ll give you a tour and explain everything to you.”

A few minutes later a petite brunette, her white coat fluttering behind her while fluorescent orange tennis shoes squeaked noisily across the floor, rushes through the vestibule where the blonde woman was waiting and approaches her.

“Welcome, Dr Griffin. I’m Dr Raven Reyes. I am in Trauma. You can call me Raven, although I’m almost an eminence here. I’m also a certified genius. Uh… what else? Oh, yeah. The interns? Ignore them. Most of them don’t even know how to spell their name. You can enslave them for coffee and free lunch. That’s what I do. They know better than to contradict me. And so should you, because, well, I’m a genius. I grew up wanting to make things go boom, but then one day someone told me about how hard is to become a doctor. Let me tell you now, Raven Reyes is not one to back off a challenge. So, here I am. Uh…” she loses her train of thought for a moment before snapping her fingers.

“Yes! As I was saying, things are super chill here, you know? I mean, work is hectic, but the crew is super chill. I need to give you some tips to avoid some creeps, but we’re all cool and—”

“Raven!?”

The brunette stops in her tracks since they’ve been rushing to one of the on-call rooms.

“Oh yeah! Please forgive me. Whenever someone new comes, I get super excited. Well, at first not, actually. I got the short straw, that’s basically the reason I’m giving you the tour, but then I saw you and you just gave me a nice vibe. We’re going to be super friends, you wait and see. Anyway—what did you say your name was?”

“I didn’t,” the blonde laughs loudly. “You didn’t really give me the chance.”

“Oops, sorry.”

The woman waves one hand as if to say everything was ok between them as they exited the reception area.

“I’m Clarke Griffin. From DC. And I’m quite excited too about getting to know the new crew and you of course. I’m a trauma surgeon but most of the time if they’re short-staffed, I work on the ER. So can you explain a little about the rotations, patients, etc?”

“Sweet. Well, let me see,” Raven grabs a pile of sheets from the desk. “You’ll be covering 22 patients on rounds today. That means this floor and the next.”

Clarke can’t help but widen her eyes a bit.

“Twenty-two?”

“Yeah. Quiet morning. Plus, you know, surgeries.”

The brunette seems to sense the blonde’s nervousness and stood for a moment.

“Listen, if you get in trouble, just beep me, I’m a genius, there’s nothing Raven Reyes or American tape, can’t fix. Just don’t make it a habit. Use your minions. The med students will help you out.”

As soon as get within distance of the ER, Raven starts to shout.

“What the heck is going on in here? You know, I ordered an MRI, stat!”

Another brunette walks to them. The name on her tag says, Maya. She looks a bit lost working in the ER.

“Dr Reyes. They said transport couldn’t make it before four hours.”

At that, Raven moves her arms frantically.

“You know what I could use in four hours? A hearse! And a cheeseburger! Because he will be dead, and I will be hangry! Just give me the damn MRI now!”

Nurse Maya is about to pass out, and Clarke really feels horrible for the poor girl.

“Hey. Raven, I could start with this MRI. Ok? I will just follow the signs and then do my rounds.”

“Great. Bye.”

And just like that, Raven leaves Clarke alone in a sea of people running from one place to another. Maya gives her a grateful smile before running after the other doctor down the ER corridor.

Clarke looks around trying to figure out the way to MRI and is suddenly interrupted when the man from the stretcher awakens.

“Ma’am, are you taking me somewhere?”

He doesn’t seem mad, since being in the middle of ER in just a hospital gown can be a little awkward.

“I certainly hope so, sir,” she says while pushing him toward what she hopes is the right direction. 

“How are you doing over there, sir?”

“Am I gonna make it?”

He tilts his head and locks his eyes with the young doctor. Clarke can’t help but smile at him before answering, a little amused.

“I think so. Your hip might have a minor fracture. Did you fall?”

“My wife bought a book called Kamasutra because she wanted to try something new.”

Clarke stops in her tracks, a little stunned by the information since Mr Johnson, she peeks quickly at his chart, is eighty-six years old.

<em>‘Way to go, I guess.’</em>

“Do you know that book?”

“I… Uh—I certainly think so, sir. Although I might advise you to try something easier next time, perhaps.”

“I suppose so.”

* * *

“Alex!!”

A woman in her mid-twenties in a tight black dress and 8-inch-high heels is running like a madwoman thought a plot of land full of machines, trucks and construction workers wearing white hard hats.

“Alex?!”

She is totally out of place.

Finally, she reaches what appears to be her destination, where three workers are huddled together with ear protectors and safety vests.

“Alex! Here you are!”

One of the workers, a tall brunette, turns around and looks at the woman with widened eyes.

“Charlotte, what are you doing here?”

“Alex! I made my famous apple pie!”

There’s a low mutter from the group.

“And by famous, she means inedible. And by the way, her name is Lexa.”

“Indra!” 

The brunette turns around quickly and shushes a dirty blonde wearing the same attire who is now studiously inspecting blueprints. 

“Sorry, Charlotte, I just think you shouldn’t be here. This could be dangerous, and you might get hurt you are not

wearing,” she says while painfully looking at the high heels drawing in mud, “the proper clothes.”

“I’m sorry Alex. It’s freezing in here. Can we go to the trailer, perhaps? Don’t get sick on me.”

“I never get sick.”

“C’mon, don’t be like that. Just stop taking control for a minute, I’m sure your sister knows how to handle this… thing.”

“You can bet your sweet ass I can.”

“Indra!”

The tall and lithe brunette grabs softly at the businesswoman's arm and drags her to the side where they can talk, hopefully, without Indra interrupting them. Once they are safe, Charlotte cleans her heels with a tissue, trying to remove the congealing mud.

“I heard you bought a house. You know, I had to hear it from Juan, the guy with the food truck in front of my office. Apparently, I’m the last one to know!”

Lexa now looks incredibly uncomfortable.

“I thought I mentioned that...” she replies weakly.

“Where is it?”

“Outside of town up the shore a little bit.”

Charlotte looks a bit taken aback and furrows her brow thinking about Lexa’s statement.

“There nothing up the shore. I mean—Oh, God! please tell me you don’t mean that thing with the stilts!!”

Lexa’s attention is now focusing on one of the construction drawings. Charlotte goes to sit to calm herself a bit, but the place was full of blueprints, and hard hats and protective equipment scattered everywhere. She couldn’t help but think how uneasy she was in a place that is partially what she too does for a living.

“Why would to take that house, Alex?”

Lexa pinches the bridge of her nose, exasperated with herself, and the woman in front of her who continues her little rambling.

“It’s made of glass! For God sakes! There’s no privacy!”

“I liked it in there and honestly, I don’t need a reason. Listen, my break is over, and I have to go back to work.”

And before the businesswoman can react, Lexa hurries out of the room.

* * *

Clarke is trying to find her way back to the ER after a small break to grab something to eat in the cafeteria. The food was good. Well, it wasn’t bad. And now she was sweating bullets to find the right corridor. Just as she was about to give up, she runs against another person.

“Oops! Hey! Sorry! You lost?”

A tall and handsome nurse seems to notice her distress. Clarke couldn’t pretend the opposite even if she wanted. Her face was clearly reflecting her confusion.

“Yeah… I was on my way back to the ER, and I swear this is the third time I passed this same desk.”

“No worries. It takes a while to get your bearings around here.” 

And then after a small pause, the nurse extends his arm towards her.

“I’m Lincoln”

“Clarke. Clarke Griffin. Nice to meet you.” Clarke reciprocated, shaking his hand firmly.

Lincoln takes a peek at Clarke’s chart and chuckles, pointing in the opposite direction.

“You’re on the wrong floor.”

Clarke can’t help the blush that rushes across her face.

“Oh my God, this is embarrassing.”

“It’s completely fine. It happens to the best of us. Where did you intern?” Lincoln enquires as he walks with her in the right direction.

“Oh, at this little community hospital up on the North Shore.”

“Well, that’s nice. Welcome aboard, Dr Griffin. If you need something; don’t hesitate to ask. We are like a little family here and I’m sure you’ll be feeling like you’re at home in no time.”

“Thank you, nurse…”

“Forrester. Lincoln Forrester.”

“See you around.” 

And with that, Clarke walks jauntily until she feels a tap on her shoulder.

“Wrong direction again, Dr Griffin. That door.”

They both laugh at the silliness of the situation and go back to their duties.

* * *

After an interminable day of work, Lexa can’t wait to come back to the house and enjoy a warm bath. She’s been fantasizing about lighting a few candles and a glass of wine since the last part of the day. She has to stop on her way to buy something to eat since her fridge was bare.

Once at home, she realizes her mailbox is up.

“That’s weird. I guess I’ll be receiving the mail from the former owner for a few weeks”

She opens it and finds a white envelope. There’s no stamp, no address.

She is too tired. So, she grabs it, lowers the flag and goes inside.

After a long and much-needed bath, she lights more candles in the living room and enjoys her dinner. Once she finishes, she eases herself into a comfortable position on the loveseat, surrounded by boxes of books and stuff yet to be unpacked.

Curiosity gets the better of her, and she opens the mysterious envelope.

No name.

No date.

‘ _Dear new tenant,_

 _Welcome to your new home._ ’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Take a look at my other Clexa Movies AU:
> 
> [Wedding Crashers](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21270506/chapters/50643110) and [Notting Hill](https://archiveofourown.org/works/19434865/chapters/46253476)


	2. The mystery of the paw prints.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Many thanks to [underthecovers](https://archiveofourown.org/users/underthecovers/pseuds/underthecovers) for proofreading the chapter.
> 
> Enjoy!

Chapter II

Curiosity gets the better of her and she opens the mysterious envelope.

There’s no name.

No date.

_Dear new tenant,_

_Welcome to your new home._

_As the previous tenant, let me say I truly hope you enjoy living here as much as I did._

_It was a wonderful experience. I’d like to apologize in advance since despite me completing the change of address with the post office, you probably will receive my mail for a few more weeks. You know what a crapshoot that can be. So, if anything slips through, would you do me a favor and forward my mail?_

_Especially if they are boxes of food, books or something cool. You can keep the parking and speeding tickets from the DMV because those are not fun. My new address is below. Thank you in advance._

_P.S. Sorry about the paw prints by the front door. They were there when I moved in._ _Same with the box in the attic._

_Clarke._

Lexa finishes reading the postdate out loud and lifts her perfect brown brow. She gets up quickly and walks outside the house. Despite the low temperature, she’s only wearing gray sweatpants and a hoodie. She goes to the footbridge and crosses it, looking for those paw prints. She knows there are none for if there were she would have noticed them when she first came in.

And just as she thought, there are no paw prints.

“Paw prints?? What the hell is she talking about?”

She goes back inside and after a big gulp of her glass of wine; she runs to the attic in search of the mysterious box.

That was a truly terrible idea. The attic was thick with dust and things hanging from the ceiling. She was still carrying the letter, so she double checks it, so make sure she’s in the right place.

Not a single box.

* * *

Clarke is dead tired by the time she gets home.

Her first day at the new hospital has been exhausting. The amount of work was significantly higher than in her previous job and to be completely honest she spent substantial chunks of the day stumbling in the dark trying to figure out where everything was. The new hospital is vast, and the signage is poor in most parts of the hospital, which was how she ended up walking into darkened storage closets than the expected rooms she’d been looking for.

To top it all off, her moving boxes are scattered everywhere in the living room with most of her stuff inside of them. The only bright side is her little piece of heaven greets her like it’s been ages since the last time they were together and not this morning.

“Hello, girl. How’s my baby doing?” coos the young doctor with a baby voice while scratching the dog's little ears.

Clarke goes to the kitchen and turns the lights on, as she moves towards her fridge. After a few seconds, she realizes the kitchen light doesn’t work.

“Well; fix the light,” she mutters before opening the pantry, “buy doggy food,” she continues as two loud barks respond to her words as she walks to the fridge sighing before saying, “and human food.”

She opens a can of food for her furry friend and finds some crackers and a banana in one of the boxes.

“This will do for now.”

* * *

Lexa’s been working nonstop the whole day. Since getting home from work, she’s been to the store to buy a couple of things and started cleaning her new home.

It was a beauty, for sure. But it seems the previous tenant wasn’t quite the handyman. The house definitely needs some tender loving care, and a few things need repairing.

After hours fixing the roof, she stops to have lunch and enjoy the view.

Despite it being February, the temperature is surprisingly nice. Once she’s finished a nice and warm cup of tea, she gets back to work hoping to finish the bridge by the time the sun disappears.

And that’s exactly how she finds herself, sitting on the footbridge with a big can of red paint. The handrails needed a fresh coat of paint. She places the can on top of an old rug and enjoys the sound of birds chirping as she painted peacefully. At least, that’s was she wanted when suddenly a slight shadow comes from behind. She jumps and turns around snatching at the paintbrush ready to defend herself.

“Oh.”

It’s a small dog.

No, wait. A small puppy is looking at her with its head tilted at her in curiosity. Seriously, they aren’t bigger than the can of paint, and now Lexa feels a bit silly for scaring herself with such a tiny bundle of white and brown fur.

Before she can say anything, the puppy steps onto the paint’s tin lid and run toward the house.

Lexa swears under her breath and runs to catch the puppy.

“Hey! Hey!”

She is half away from the bridge when she suddenly stops in her tracks.

The puppy is long gone and is now inside the house and she is literally freaking out, looking at tiny paw red prints all over the bridge.

“What the fu… Hey! You! Tiny monster! Come here!”

She goes inside the house and runs toward the attic where she had thrown away the letter from the previous tenant. And with a certain level of trepidation she rereads the letter.

“How is this even possible?”

* * *

Clarke has had a quiet day off. Well, she was on call but used the time wisely and did the chores that needed to be done. After the house was clean, a visit to the grocery store had been essential for survival. A woman and her dog can not live on crackers and kibble alone.

At lunchtime, she is enjoying a club sandwich with her mother.

Abby Griffin has been Head of Surgery at the Northwestern Memorial. After a few years, she decided on early retirement and got involved with politics.

Nowadays, she is the Mayor of a little, and picturesque town thirty minutes south of Chicago.

On her rare days off, she loves to spend some time with her daughter.

“I can’t believe how warm it is,” her mother says enjoying the rays looking directly towards the sun.

Clarke, on the other hand, is protecting her delicate eyes behind big and dark glasses.

“I know. It’s crazy. Sixty-five degrees on Valentine’s Day. This can’t be Chicago.”

Abby agrees and nods.

“You know how your father used to say we would kill the planet sooner rather than later. It’s global warming. The icebergs melt, water covers the Earth. Our president, though, continues to think that’s all bullshit.”

Clarke grows upset with the direction this conversation is taking.

“Please, let’s just enjoy lunch. I don’t need you to remind me what a great ass we have as a president. Hey, did you find the book I was telling you about the other day? The one dad used to read over and over again in front of the fireplace.”

Abby gets her purse and grabs a book showing its cover to Clarke.

“Falcone?”

“Yeah.” 

Clarke takes the books feeling immediately better knowing she is holding something precious to her father. 

“It’s a historical novel that takes place in the 14th century in Barcelona during the construction of a beautiful church in the Ribera district.”

To say that Abby is shocked would be an understatement. She knows her daughter adores any form of art, including architecture, but history wasn’t one of her favorite subjects in high school.

“Well, I for one, am surprised that you show interest in a historical novel.”

“Well, you know what a brilliant time we spent together during our trip in Italy and Spain before everything—uh, everything happened. Dad was crazy about visiting Barcelona. We had a wonderful time there. I wanted to read the book…”

“I know, honey,” the older woman says grabbing her daughter's arm softly and squeezing it.

She decides a change of path in the conversation is for the best.

“This is nice. We definitely should get together more often.”

Mother and daughter smile at each other with a gentle affection in their gazes.

The loud sound of wheels screeching suddenly intrudes on the moment they’re sharing and both look up to the source of the noise.

A car has lost control, and its side collides with the bus from the next lane.

“Oh, God!”

Everybody is looking in the accident's direction, and despite some people who are scattered around the big plaza running toward it, no one can beat the path of the doctor. Clarke is there in seconds with barely a moment had passed before she is next to the crashed cars in full doctor mode.

Before she can assess the damage, she grabs her phone and quickly dials 911.

“We need an ambulance at Daley Plaza. There is a woman who has been struck by a bus. Get an EMT crew right away!” she yells before ducking towards the prone woman, trying to find a pulse. The body is on its stomach so she can’t see more than a mane of brown curls.

* * *

“I’d like to get the foundation on number 19 dug today.”

“Look, kid, I know you are kind of new around here.”

Lexa stops in her track and moves her fingers through her hair, trying to calm herself down. She has had an interminable day, and this man was wasting her patience.

They were currently walking around the construction site overseeing the progress and outstanding work that still needed to be completed.

“I can’t get to 19 until at least two weeks.”

“What? C’mon Quint. That’s bullshit and you know it!” 

She is done, and she puts on the Commander mask her sister is always bitching about. 

“Take Artigas and Dax off rooting. David can run the backhoe they’re not using on 15, and grab four or five of those other guys who are sitting around doing nothing and the tall one, what’s her name?”

“Joan But—"

“But nothing. Problem solved. Get to work” she says before patting his arm and walking toward the trailer.

* * *

Clarke is thoughtfully sitting on one of the free tables at the cafeteria.

A small hand on her shoulder.

“Hey.”

She lifts her head and sees worried brown eyes. The Latina sits next to her.

“I heard about Daley Plaza”

“Mm-hm”

It is all she can say, because what else is there to say.

“EMT said you fought hard for the woman.”

Not hard enough, Clarke can’t help but think.

“Mm-hm. Yep. Really knocked myself out.”

Raven sees the sadness in those baby blue eyes and feels terrible for her recently acquired friend.

“Clarke, you know how this goes. I tell this to every college student and none of those bastards hears me out. So, you better be the first one to listen. We can’t save them all. We lose patients every day and you need to make sure that’s what matters. So, here is a piece of advice: on your next day off, get as far away from here as possible and go to a very special place where you feel… most like yourself.”

So, that’s exactly what she does. Next Wednesday, she takes her little fur friend and drives away. When it’s been an hour driving around, she realizes where she’s been going without thinking it. Clarke parks the car and wanders the periphery of the immense lake and takes a deep breath.

Calmness.

Reassurance.

She had missed this place.

Without noticing, she is in front of the house with the little doggy next to her. She can see how the house is in much better condition than when she left. However, there is no one there. No cars. Not a simple clue that lets anyone know that someone is living there.

When she is about to leave, scolding herself for being a creep for too long, she stops in front of the mailbox.

The red signal is up.

She lifts her hand to…

“No, wait. Geez, Griffin, don’t be a creep.”

She turns around toward the car and then goes around again.

Then she practically runs again and opens the mailbox.

“So much for not wanting to be a creep…” she mutters.

Inside.

A white envelope.

No stamp.

No name.

No address.

It doesn’t make any sense that the current tenant is leaving a white envelope with no stamp or address in there.

She senses that this is a sign.

It takes two seconds for her to take the envelope and get in the car.

_February 14th, 201_ _6._

_Dear Ms. Clarke,_

_I received your note. I’m afraid there must be some kind of misunderstanding._

_As far as I know, the Lake House has been empty for several years. Perhaps your note was intended for the Queen’s house down the shore since no one has lived in this house for years._

_I’m quite curious about the paw prints since there were no paw prints when I first arrived at the house._

_Sincerely,_

_Lexa._

Clarke leans forward in her seat, her eyes narrowing on the house. She peeks at the dog as if to check whether she too is listening to this nonsense. It doesn’t make any sense that the actual tenant left the letter in their mailbox and not the address she provided.

“Perhaps, they thought I’ll be returning to the neighborhood to collect my mail?”

It perplexes Clarke. And why not? She’s a little amused too. She wants to believe that maybe when the owner bought the house the real estate agent informed them that the house has been unoccupied for years. She can’t find a rational reason for the agent to do that.

The doctor felt it was for the best to write to the owner and inform them of their minor mistake. Since she has a notebook and pen, she decides to do it right there.

_February 14th, 201_ _8._

_Dear Lexa,_

_I’m very familiar with the Queen’s cottage, and I guarantee that I have never lived there. I’m old-fashioned, so I don’t think a little cottage should be over 6000 square feet, with pools, and stone wells, and towers. These things are a bit peculiar to my taste._

_So, let me try this again, I used to live at the Lake House. Then I moved out. Now I live at 307 Ark Avenue in Chicago. I’d appreciate it if you would forward my mail if you get any._

_Sincerely,_

_Clarke._

She finishes the letter and is satisfied with her response. It’s only when she reads the letter again from the owner to check if she has skipped any information that she realizes the date that marks the letter.

Clarke chuckles.

_P.S. Oh, and by the way, it’s 201_ 8 _. Ask anyone, Lol._

She ambles back to the mailbox and places the letter inside before raising the red flag. With one last glance at the beautiful house, she drives back to Chicago.

* * *

Lexa can feel the exhaustion wrack her body from yet another grueling day at work. She sometimes wishes she could make things slow down, but she can’t help it. She loves her job and every day she needs to give 110% of herself. It’s only a recent thing that she started working at this new firm, and she needs to prove her worth. As soon, she gets home; she picks up her mail and goes inside.

The kitchen faucet is leaking. So before dinner, she takes her time to fix it.

Once she’s done, she sits on the kitchen floor and enjoys a cold beer. It’s only then that she remembers the white envelope with her name on the mailbox. It has the same penmanship as the welcome letter, so she can only assume they came back to the house.

The first thing that catches her attention is the date. Is it possible that this Clarke person mistook the numbers? But when she finishes the letter, she sees the postscript and there is no possibility that a mistake has been made. She really meant that date.

“2018?”

The brunette places the beer on the tablet and reads the letter again searching for the ‘this is a joke’ line.

She is beyond confused. The young architect decides is time to take a shower and go to bed. She has a reunion tomorrow morning that surely will require all of her attention and patience.

Meeting with the investments AND the family was never easy.

“What does she mean 2018?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you guys think down below. Your comments and kudos make my day!


	3. I'm not your Marty Mcfly

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Many thanks to [underthecovers](https://archiveofourown.org/users/underthecovers/pseuds/underthecovers) for proofreading the chapter.

_Previously on The Lake House..._

The first thing that catches her attention is the date. Is it possible that this Clarke person mistook the numbers? But when she finishes the letter, she sees the postscript and there is no possibility that a mistake has been made. She really meant that date.

She is beyond confused. The young architect decides is time to take a shower and go to bed. She has a reunion tomorrow morning that surely will require all of her attention and patience.

Meeting with the investments AND the family was never easy.

“What does she mean 2018?”

* * *

Chapter III

It was a brand-new day in Chicago. Sunny and warm like the previous one, but a little on the breezy side. Nothing out of the ordinary for the ‘windy city’.

Traffic was hectic.

Things were also a bit frantic inside the architectural firm Woods & Woods. After thirty years in business, the firm has reached one of its sweetest moments, becoming one of the most particular and successful firms in the US.

A tall man in his sixties, crosses the long corridors leaving behind several offices full of people immersed with drawings and computers. He reaches the conference room where a big group of employers greet him.

One of the perks of being Gustus Woods, owner of Woods & Woods.

He takes a seat and nods to one of the interns signalling that he can start his presentation.

“Good morning, Mr. Woods.” 

He turns his gaze on the young intern and it is steady and hard, his height is intimidating as he uses it to tower over the others even seated.

“I mean, uh—Gustus. Good morning, Gustus. Eh—well, I derived my inspiration for the metaphor of the fugue, the loop—”

Gustus raises his hand, signalling him to stop. The young architect is absolutely terrified.

“Aden? Is it Aden, right?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Let me tell you about loops and how to create from the bottom of your heart.”

And with that, the man gets up and walks to a digital blackboard, starting to explain the reason he had become an architect over forty years ago. After two hours and a half, the interns pack their things and leave to make their way home.

The tall man stays behind.

As the interns drift out of the room, snippets of conversation thread the air.

“Man, two hours listening to that old man…”

“You kidding me, right? He said interesting things…”

“Sadistic and bitter old man.”

“Whatever. Bye man.”

The junior apprentice makes his way to his mentor's office. If he appears terrified in the presence of Gustus Woods, being with his daughter is even worse. He certainly knows he is giving the chance to learn from one of the best, so he tries to seem as grateful as possible. However, that doesn’t mean he doesn’t sweat bullets every time he approaches Anya’s office.

He receives a simple glance from the woman with dirty-blonde hair.

“Well, well. Look who honors us with his presence.” 

Aden gulps painfully and closes his steps to the woman. 

“I thought you’d be lost in the loop of your mind given how long it took you to come back to the office.”

“Uh—I, it’s just that—”

“Stop. It hurts. And I don’t have time to hear it. Do you have the design I asked for? It was for yesterday.”

“You asked me this morning.”

She shrugs nonchalantly.

“Exactly. And I wanted them yesterday.”

“I’m sorry Ms. Woods. I’ll need a few more minutes; Gustus’s meeting ran a bit longer than I expected.”

Wrong answer.

He sees his life hang by a thread.

“Blaming the boss already, kid?”

“I—No! I just—”

“You won’t get too far if you spend my precious time making me listen to poor excuses. Get to work. Chop. Chop.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

And in a blink of an eye, he’s gone.

Anya wears a little, a very, very tiny, smirk and gets back to her work.

* * *

Another long day passes, and the blonde architect is about to get out of the building. She freezes when she sees a familiar car parked out the front.

Her expression remains neutral. However, anyone who really, really knows the woman, understands what the minuscule twitch in her eyes means.

She slowly walks toward the woman waiting outside the car and embraces her in a big hug.

It's been way too long.

“I can't believe that thing is still running.”

Of course, leave it to Anya that their first interaction after years will be her bitching about her sister’s car.

“Yep. I’ve been taking care of her.”

“You look like crap.”

And of course, the second interaction from Anya would be to bitch about her sister's appearance.

“Geez. I missed you too”

They not only look completely different, Anya with her dirty blonde hair and chocolate eyes, and Lexa, a brunette with green eyes, but their styles are completely opposite to one another. Anya is wearing an expensive tailored grey suit with a stylish brown leather case embossed with her name on it.

The carryall was pricey, probably two months’ salary for Lexa.

Lexa is about to make fun of her sister's posh style when the very same tall man steps out from the building stopping in his tracks when his eyes lock with Lexa’s. After a few seconds of confusion, she is about to approach him, but Gustus quickly dismisses her with his hand and starts walking in the opposite direction.

_Yikes._

The fancy architect sees the pain in green eyes and softly grabs her seeking to distract the attention of the brunette.

“Hey, forget about him. You know how Gustus can be. Come, let’s go to have a drink. On me.”

* * *

The sisters decided to stop to have a drink at Treekru. One of the fanciest ‘it’ bars of Chicago.

No.

Just messing around.

Treekru was a hole in one of those neighbourhoods where let’s say it’s just better if you don’t walk alone after evening shadows begin to creep along concrete paths and dusty buildings hide every day monsters. 

However, the sisters know it like the back of their hand since they used to mess around the neighborhood during their college years.

Everybody knew them. So, it was fine.

The story of how that shit hole named Treekru became their favourite place to have a drink hides a very fond story of their college days. 

When Anya was in her senior year and little Lexa was only a Sophomore, they were ‘invited’ to a Christmas party with one of their father’s partners. Both sisters knew the party would be a dull one, just like always. Especially since the younger one wasn’t allowed to drink. That’s the reason Anya has been sneaking her sister drinks all night. Both had been making fun of everyone to the point where her father decided it was for the best to kick them out. After that, with a few drinks inside them, tipsy Lexa had the great idea of exploring the city.

They ended up in a small pub that quickly became their regular base to have a drink every a weekend without the typical brat and douche kids from their father’s social circle.

Treekru wasn’t a big place at all, but neither was it cramped or small for the regular crowd that mingled in its dark interior. The neon street lights outside were a bit too much, but the owner, Nicko, doesn’t give a damn for those who mock him about it.

Every time one of the sisters had a rough day, they would end up there sharing a beer.

So, here they were, in front of a cold beer and a basket of peanuts on the house –the peanuts not the beer - as Nicko dutifully reminded them when he placed them in front of the two women.

“Condos? On Wicker Park?!”

A small nod.

“You’re kidding, right?”

Anya does her best to not show the slight embarrassment she feels, but the red that tips her ears gives her away.

Another small nod.

“That’s fancy,” Lexa starts with a little smile, “so, I come back after five years and I found my sister thinking she’s become some kind of César Pelli?”

The blonde huffs and shoves her sister’s shoulder a little too hard to the point Lexa almost falls from her stool.

“What were you expecting? You left and I stayed. I had to become dad’s little minion in that little myth-making factory of his. However, YOU, idiot of the year, aren’t the best suited to speak, since you haven’t built much from that hamster cage in fourth grade!”

“Hey! Mr Pike’s cage was a hell of a hamster cage! You were just jealous you couldn’t beat me in that stupid contest!” Lexa says with faux anger...

“That’s funny you say that because I clearly remember the design used and it was remarkably similar to the one I created for Mr Wallace!”

Lexa opens her eyes comically and moves her hand to her chest.

“Noooo!! It was not!”

“Was too!”

Someone clears their throat next to the sisters and they lift their eyes to find Nicko, a small smirk on his face as he places fresh new beers in front of them.

“Perhaps you ladies can leave the talk about your childhood hamsters for today? You’re scaring my good clients.”

“You know there is no such a thing as ‘good clients’ in this den since - ever, Nicko!”

Lexa’s audacity makes her sister smirk as well.

“Little Heda. Never backs off from a challenge,” Anya mutters under her breath.

Nicko’s narrowed eyes truly looks scary for a moment before he barks a burst of loud laughter, closely followed by the sisters' who join in. From outside, the tall might man may look intimidating, but after many years of friendship, they have created a special bond between them.

Some patrons caught the bartender's attention and he left the sisters to continue their talk.

After a small and comfortable silence, Lexa decides to bite the bullet and get straight to the point.

“I bought a house.”

Nothing out of the extraordinary. Everybody can buy a house. I mean if you can afford it, it’s legal. So, good. Everything is good.

But Anya knows better.

“Where?”

“On the lake”

That’s Lexa. As vague as possible.

And Anya goes with the flow.

For the moment.

“Ok. So, you have bought a lake house. You are making some money, otherwise, I wouldn’t know how you can afford it.”

Lexa winces a little bit at her sister’s words.

It is not that she’s completely unattached to the idea of making money. Actually, that wasexactly the path she followed for years during her years at her father’s company. Gustus always felt pride at the idea of designing with the heart. Creating and building from scratch; as long as the profile attached to the project was high. They had started with the dream of creating exceptional pieces for their people. And someplace along the way, the company lost its path.

It happens.

That was one of the reasons she couldn’t stay after—well, after everything. She wanted to create something good, something greater, but not at the cost of forgetting the place where she came from or the reason behind its meaning.

After Costia, everything was too much. The company. The expensive cars. The fancy restaurants. And tailored clothes. What was the point?

So she left. Without looking back.

Her sister looks at her patiently. She knows exactly where Lexa went and for a moment, she truly feels bad for making her sister go to that dark place. Lexa shakes her head a bit as to make the thoughts that cloud her mind disappear for a moment.

“Anyway, the house is a dump. Been abandoned for years—”

“Oh, so you got yourself an abandoned, haunted lake house. What’s next, the devil sending you a friend request on Facebook? You’re a walking cliché, Heda.”

Despite her words seeming a bit harsh, they’re said with a hint of humor. That and the ever-present tiny smirk, makes Lexa think her sister is trying to make a joke.

At least, for Anya’s standards.

Lexa indulges her.

“How about this? I even got a dog.”

Now, her sister looks truly shocked. Little Heda always had a thing for stray cats. She used to pick them all up and bring them to the house, which was unfortunate for the rest of the family.

Especially Anya who always saw herself as a dog person. But her kid sister had experienced an incident when she was small with the neighbour’s dog, and ever since then it was a lost cause. 

Lexa didn’t like dogs.

“You—you got a dog?”

She still can’t believe it.

“She just showed up at the house from out of nowhere!”

Lexa rushes to say in her explanation that it wasn’t her decision to make. The brunette goes to grab her phone and hands it to Anya, so she can see a picture of the little fur friend. The images shows a tiny Polpetta sleeping on the sofa wrapped in a little blanket like a burrito. When Anya sees it, her face softens. For a second.

The conversation continues with both sisters drawing a little information from the other about what they have been doing all this time. Partners, sports; anything and everything.

After a few beers, they decide to call it a day and get out of there.

Just when they are exiting the pub, Lexa remembers the letter she has in the car and decides to make a small trip.

“What are we doing here?” the dirty blonde architect says as they stop the car in a big yet mostly empty avenue.

“I have to deliver a letter. Hold on a second.”

The brunette exits the car and walks around to the sidewalk.

There’s nothing there.

“It should be here. 307 Ark Avenue.”

But instead of apartments or houses, the only thing she could see was a big panel with luxury apartment advertisements with photos of home plans straight out from Pinterest.

Seeing how her sister is still outside, Anya decides to exit the car as well and walks toward her.

“Are we meeting someone here or something?”

“Yeah,” Lexa says while looking around more confused than ever, “I thought so...”

* * *

Since it was not possible to deliver Ms Griffin’s mail at the address she gave Lexa, the brunette thought it was for the best to keep leaving it in her own mailbox, hoping the lady would come back again to pick it up.

_‘February 20th, 2016._

_Dear Ms Griffin,_

_I write to you because a few days ago I went to 307 Ark Avenue._

_I wanted to be sure there was a place where I could send you a letter. Imagine my surprise when I realized there was no way of delivering your mail there. It’s just a construction site! I mean, let me tell you, the apartments look nice and fancy from the pictures they had, but they won’t be ready for another 18 months._

_What am I missing here?_

_I don’t know if this is some kind of joke, because truly, it does not make any sense. I want to believe you might get the address wrong because I noticed you got the date wrong too._

_I guess, if you’re truly in the year 2018, then… you wouldn’t have a problem proving it, right?_

_Be forewarned._

_P.S. Anyway, I truly hope we can set this right. Just so you know that since I have no way of delivering the mail, I’ll be leaving it in my mailbox._

_Sincerely,_

_Lexa.’_

Clarke couldn’t believe what her eyes were seeing.

A challenge.

Clarke could back off from many things in life. She didn’t have trouble asking for help.

Now.

A challenge?

Uh-uh.

She remembers the event from this afternoon. The last letter from the owner of the lake house piqued her curiosity, so she decided to come back to the house after her shift and tried her luck one again. Surprisingly, the mailbox flag was up, and she found a new envelope with no name nor address.

So, she had taken it.

And here she is, at her house, in freaking 307 Ark Avenue, enjoying a glass of wine and pointlessly staring at Lexa’s letter. It’s a beautiful name she thinks but scoffs incredulously before moving to the bedroom to find a way to refute this woman.

She picks a box from the closet and starts scrolling through old pictures and letters.

“I'm gonna find a way to shut you off, Ms Timeless Lady.”

Her dog comes to her and starts whining to catch her attention.

“Not now, missy, don’t you see I’m trying to find something to prove to Lexa that this is not ‘Back to the future?’ Here, take this. Help me out.”

After a few minutes, she finds what she was looking for.

It’s an old picture of herself with family and friends back in 2016 during the 4th of July.

She has her mother on one side and her best friend Octavia on the other one. They are each holding a big glass of margarita with big smiles and almost completely scrunched eyes.

Clarke smiles softly clearly remembering that day. They got her mother a bit more than tipsy, which was their sole mission from the very first thing in the morning. So Clarke, the stubborn ass that she is, promised herself that her mother would end up a bit tipsy from all the well deserved, celebratory festivities.

“AHA!” She cries out loud in glee when she spots that the pictures show the date.

After her small victory dance, she sits down on the couch and grabs a notepad. It was time to set this right. She will leave Miss. Lexa speechless and politely tell her to fuck off because Clarke freaking Griffin was not a girl who chickens out from a challenge.

"Game on."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, I would love to have some feedback about this fic. I want to know if you're enjoying it and your opinions. Thanks!
> 
> Don't forget to take a look at my other Clexa Movies AU:
> 
> [Wedding Crashers](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21270506/chapters/50643110) and [Notting Hill](https://archiveofourown.org/works/19434865/chapters/46253476)
> 
> See you next week.


	4. Is this even possible?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for taking the time to make my words look decent. I own you a tray full of pasta [underthecovers](https://archiveofourown.org/users/underthecovers/pseuds/underthecovers)  
> 

_Previously on The Lake House..._

“I'm gonna find a way to shut you off, Ms Timeless Lady.”

After a few minutes, she finds what she was looking for.

It’s an old picture of herself with family and friends back in 2016 during the 4th of July.

“AHA!” She cries out loud in glee when she spots that the pictures show the date.

After her small victory dance, she sits down on the couch and grabs a notepad. It was time to set this right. She will leave Miss. Lexa speechless and politely tell her to fuck off because Clarke freaking Griffin was not a girl who chickens out from a challenge.

* * *

Chapter IV

_'February 23rd, 2018._

_Dear Time Traveler,_

_Okay, I get it. You wanted me to prove I was not joking around when I told you I am_ _writing to you from 2018._

_Now, I want you to know that this feels unbelievable. BUT I will indulge the idea and prove to you that I am living in ‘your future’._

_Just in case this is all true, and you really are where and when you think you are; you’ll need this._

Lexa reads as she grabs a ridiculously soft scarf. It is a beautiful shade of red. It’s not one of her favorite colors, but she must admit that this one is nice.

She huffs at herself and keeps reading.

_There was a huge late snow at the end of February 2016, and literally everyone got sick._

_So, remember. Plenty of rest and lots of fluids! Don’t forget to store some cans of soup, just in case. Doctor’s orders!_

_Wishing you all the best,_

_Clarke'_

Now Lexa is laughing a little manically because there’s no way a big snow is coming. 

It’s been a warm month and the weather channel hasn’t warned about anything other than more sunny weeks ahead.

“Snow. Right.”

Her mouth quirks in amusement as she prepares herself a delicious meal of pasta with meatballs.

The puppy looks at her and tilts her head, hoping the brunette will fetch her something to eat. Lexa caves and goes to the fridge and grabs some celery and baby carrots.

She supposes there are better things the puppy wants to eat, but she is not gonna feed her with her homemade signature dish.

The dog eats the vegetables in silence but doesn’t stop peeking as Lexa enjoys her food. After a tiny whine, the brunette can’t stand it anymore and gets up.

“Fine! Silly dog! Here, take it!” 

She crouches in front of the dog and gives her a meatball.

The puppy practically inhales it, devouring the meat in a few quick bites.

She hums to herself and stares pensively at the hungry hound.

“You like Italian food, little dog?”

Another tiny whine.

I mean, who doesn’t?

“Ok.” 

She gives the puppy another meatball. 

“This is the last one…”

The dog moves her tail frenetically, and before Lexa can rise the second meatball is gone.

The brunette wonders to herself as she sees how the little hound hoovered the food.

“Hmm… Polpetta. That’ll be your name, little one.”

Polpetta barks as if responding to her new human.

Lexa finishes her dinner, and after checking the door, she goes to sleep.

* * *

The alarm goes off and the brunette gets up, stretches like a cat and goes to make some coffee. On her way to the bathroom to take a shower, something catches her attention outside the window.

Is it? Could it be?

The forest surrounding the house is covered in white.

She runs to the door. The gasp that escapes her mouth matches her widened eyes.

“This. Is. Impossible…”

She looks from one side to the other and she can see that the snow has covered everything.

Suddenly.

She sneezes.

“Oh, crap.”

It’s freezing, so she rushes back inside.

Lexa absolutely hates being sick. She’s always been so proud of her iron constitution. So, what was happening right now? How was it possible that this stranger named Clarke knew about the weather and that she would get sick?

Lexa is usually cool as a cucumber!

The first two days she can’t go to work. Hell, she can’t even move from bed. Lexa only gets up to freshen up and grab a bite to eat. But, after the third day, she gathers some strength and satisfies her curiosity and contacts Clarke Griffin.

Something was clearly wrong here.

If Clarke has been receiving her letters through her mailbox, she will continue doing so in that manner. After writing the letter she goes outside, dutifully followed by Polpetta.

Then she leaves the letter and raises the red flag.

On her way back, she hears something and turns just in time to catch the red flag being magically put down.

“The fuck…” she whispers.

* * *

Clarke arrives at the lake house after stopping by at Octavia’s enjoying brunch. She hadn’t planned on coming back. Again. She wasn’t that far away from the place and Clarke was really curious about the ‘timeless lady’, as she had taken to calling her.

The young woman was a woman of science. She was a doctor. An excellent doctor. For Christ’s sake. And she knew that the chances of talking or exchanging mail with someone from the past were ludicrous. But even so, she let the situation be. She indulges this brief story of ‘impossibles’ to entertain her.

That will explain why she was at the house, one more time, in front of the mailbox.

And the red flag is up.

Let’s be a creep once again, shall we, Clarke?

She picks the piece of paper and reads it out loud.

_‘Is this even possible?_

_L.'_

Clarke doesn’t know why, but she can’t help the sweet smile when she sees the letter with the elegant calligraphy of the stranger. She runs to her car to grab her notebook, but she can’t find it.

She’s kicking herself as she realizes that she must have left it at home.

The woman chewed at her lip nervously, thinking of a way to deliver her message when her attention is drawn to an old bill from the phone company sitting in the clutter between the two front seats.

“This will do.”

She mutters under her breath while scribing her message.

“Oh, my God. this is crazy.”

But still, she runs and leaves the letter, not before lifting the red flag one more time.

* * *

Lexa sees the flag move up magically. Keyword: magically. It rises by itself. She freezes for a few seconds before storming toward the mailbox. Stopping in her tracks midway.

And continues to storm towards it.

Inside rests an opened old bill from the phone company.

“What?” 

She stares at the bill in confusion.

She understands nothing until she turns the letter over and sees inscribed on the back a brief message in capital letters.

_‘WHY NOT?!’_

Even though it would be perfectly normal to be terrified out of her mind by what she just saw, Lexa is surprisingly calm. 

She is fucking confused, but she doesn’t believe that something or someone wants to harm her. She can’t explain it except there’s a friendly vibe and feeling surrounding this moment.

She will not lie to herself. An enormous part of her still believes she is in bed, sick as a dog, with a high fever, because she just witnessed something that is just not possible.

She looks around a few times hoping to see a bunch of guys with cameras shouting that this a surprise or a sick joke of Anya’s, but there’s no one around her. Just the peace and calm quietness of the forest.

Should she - answer?

* * *

She is about to enter the car when she realizes that her little shadow has not followed her.

“Oh, c’mon! Babe, let’s go home.” 

She yells at the dog who is still looking intensively at the mailbox. 

“I’ll give you tons and tons of treats, pretty girl, c’mon!”

The little dog barks once as the red flag rises by itself.

“What the hell?”

It’s official. Now, Clarke is shitting in her pants.

“How is this possible?!” she rambles while walking to the mailbox. “I mean, I know receiving mail from the past is still not possible, but I don’t know, doggy. Could you please move away from the mailbox?”

She’s looking at the tiny box like it’s the devil.

She looks around.

Nope.

No one.

She might be confused and hell a bit scared too, but on the other hand, her dog is barking and moving her tail, happy as Larry. It can’t be that bad, could it?

Clarke circles the mailbox and passes her arms around it, trying to catch the invisible thread or, whatever.

She attempts to open it a few times before doing it as fast as possible.

There’s a note inside.

‘Impossible. I know. Not possible… but. It’s happening.’

She’s curious.

And, as her mother used to say, she’s above all, a curious child, so even though it still gives her the chills, she answers.

* * *

Lexa firmly believes she has lost her mind while waiting for something.

What exactly?

Clarke to send her another letter.

Anyway, she’s freezing her ass off wearing her fluffy robe with a cartoon of racoons across it, (a welcome gift from Anya) and heavy boots.

She’s just a picture.

Standing in front of the mailbox.

And suddenly, the red flag goes up by itself.

She tilts her head in disbelief.

“Okay…” Lexa says as she moves to get the letter and read it out loud.

“Where am I?”

“Is she serious?” 

She looks comically at Polpetta.

She huffs and replies.

* * *

Clarke has been waiting for a reply for about a minute before the red flag goes up.

She isn’t afraid anymore. She’s more exasperated, like a little upset by this magical, timeless lady who is making her wait for a letter.

_‘The lake house.’_

The blonde can’t help but let out a slightly hysterical laugh that’s riddled with sarcasm before yelling to no one — she hopes—in particular.

“Well, as you can see, dummy, I am at the lake house too!”

A tiny whine from her fur friend.

“Well, girl, I’m tired of these games, so we’re leaving! Let’s go!”

And with that, she enters her car with the dog and starts the engine.

She’s not playing this game anymore.

Nope.

* * *

Ok.

Maybe she wants to keep playing this whatever it is game.

As crazy the experience has been, she couldn’t deny something about it felt quite right. Nice even. Days have come and gone, and Clarke hasn’t been able to stop thinking about the stranger.

Funny thing is, they knew nothing about each other; she knew her name only after she signed off the end of one letter, but apart from that. Nothing.

“Maybe we should introduce ourselves properly.”

She mutters softly, waiting on the line of her favorite coffee shop next to the hospital. She didn’t count on the person just next to her hearing her. He was also waiting for his order and had been engrossed in his newspaper. Until that moment. He lifts his head and turns towards Clarke with a flirtatious smile.

Ok, this was awkward.

She gives the man a tight smile and looks the other way.

Oops.

The man, however, folds the newspaper and proceeds to freshen his breath with a spray from his jacket.

Ok.

Clarke ignores him and as soon as the barista calls out her name she rushes to grab it, and storms out of there before the creepy dude can actually say anything.

She even ignores that, once again, the teenager barista got her name wrong. So, she runs away with a cup of coffee for ‘Clerk’.

Note to self. Don’t tell the teenage, underpaid coffee guy that her name is Clarke with an ‘e’, anymore.

After the weird experience from the coffee shop, she comes back to work. The day is almost over, and she still thinks it’s an excellent idea to introduce herself to the timeless lady. As soon as she arrives home, she gets comfortable on the couch with a glass of wine and her fur-friend lying across her feet.

_'February 27th, 2018._

_Hello, Timeless Lady._

_This is Clarke. I’m sorry if I left you waiting for my reply the other day. Truth to be told, I kinda’ freaked out a bit. Seeing the red little flag move by itself was quite confronting. I’m still wrapping my head around the idea that this could be possible. It can if I’m seeing it, right? I don’t know._

_Anyway, the other day I was toying with this idea and I realized, we know nothing about each other. I thought it would be nice to exchange some information so we are more comfortable. I mean, I don’t know about you, but I would like to keep exchanging this strange little correspondence we have going. So, here I go first._

_I’m a doctor, dedicated to curing the sick. At least, trying to. I am now working and living in Chicago. I love painting, although I don’t see myself as an artist. I enjoy spending time with my family and friends._

_What do you do when you’re not traveling through time? I mean, something that pays the bills._

_How old are you?_

_Sincerely,_

_C.'_

It takes Lexa a few minutes to get comfortable and reply to the doctor.

_'March 1st, 2016._

_Hello, Clarke._

_Well, since we are giving out introductions I guess I’ll divulge my name, which is Lexa._

_So, you can stop calling me ‘Timeless Lady’ since you could be the one traveling through time for all I know._

_I am an architect. I like to build things. My dad brought me a set of Legos for my fourth birthday and I was a goner. I can’t say my current project is ideal. It’s a little complicated._

_The most important thing is, it allows me to be here, in this place, and I guess that’s enough about that for now._

_Didn’t your parents teach you that it’s really inappropriate to ask a woman her age?_

_Back in my day, people didn’t ask those sorts of questions. I’m a lady, Clarke. I could be the age of your mother, for all we know. Just kidding. I’m actually 30. Cancerian. I love the classics. Just in case you want to buy me something for my birthday, you still got time._

_I’m truly curious, Clarke, if you’re in a hospital in Chicago now, where were you before - in my time?_

_I’m looking forward to reading your next letter._

_Sincerely,_

_Lexa.'_

Clarke finishes the letter with an enormous smile on her face. She can’t believe Lexa (she finally accepts calling her by her name), indulged her and shared so much information. 

If she was being honest, Clarke has had the vibe from the beginning that Lexa was a serious person and she was afraid the young architect would simply dismiss the idea of getting to know each other a bit more. 

She even sensed a bit of sarcasm and wit in Lexa’s letter.

Baby steps.

_‘March 8th, 2018._

_Dear Lexa,_

_I’m so glad you answered my letter._

_First, I want to apologize for not replying sooner, but in my defense my week has been crazy._

_It really surprised me you’re younger than me! I mean, you sound like an old lady, or at least you write like one. You could have been my grandma!_

_As you went big with your letter, (I hope you detect my sarcasm), I’ll tell you a bit about me. I was working as a Trauma surgeon in Madison. It was, is a really hard job. I finished emotionally drained. I decided a change was needed and applied for a new job in Chicago. I can’t say it changed a lot of things. It’s still exhausting, but also very gratifying. It’s a bigger hospital, more staff. That makes it better, I guess._

_Also, my best friend lives here in the city and my mom lives nearby, so it’s nice to have the chance to see them more often._

_I’m a Scorpion. Almost a Halloween girl. I remember my dad was so freaking ecstatic._

_We made a deal to have a big celebration every Halloween. We were two little dorks. My mom hated but I know deep inside, she secretly loved it._

_I also love presents, so you have time to buy something nice._

_Talk soon,_

_C.'_

It was weird how she has ended each day expecting something. That something being the moment where she got home and saw a new letter in her mailbox.

Her eyes always light up.

It is in this moment of self-awareness that Lexa has a kind of epiphany.

“Oh, crap!” she runs toward her office making a little mess on her way and starts to write a new letter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What do you guys think of this chapter?! Don't you think Lexa and the puppy are adorable?
> 
> Polpetta: Meatball. God bless Italian cuisine.


	5. Tell me about the future

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to [underthecovers](https://archiveofourown.org/users/underthecovers/pseuds/underthecovers) who took the time to proofread the chapter.

_Preciously on The Lake House..._

_‘March 8th, 2018._

_Dear Lexa,_

_I’m so glad you answered my letter._

_First, I want to apologize for not replying sooner, but in my defense my week has been crazy._

_It really surprised me you’re younger than me! I mean, you sound like an old lady, or at least you write like one. You could have been my grandma!_

_As you went big with your letter, (I hope you detect my sarcasm), I’ll tell you a bit about me. I was working as a Trauma surgeon in Madison. It was, is a really hard job. I finished emotionally drained. I decided a change was needed and applied for a new job in Chicago. I can’t say it changed a lot of things. It’s still exhausting, but also very gratifying. It’s a bigger hospital, more staff. That makes it better, I guess._

_Also, my best friend lives here in the city and my mom lives nearby, so it’s nice to have the chance to see them more often._

_I’m a Scorpion. Almost a Halloween girl. I remember my dad was so freaking ecstatic._

_We made a deal to have a big celebration every Halloween. We were two little dorks. My mom hated but I know deep inside, she secretly loved it._

_I also love presents, so you have time to buy something nice._

_Talk soon,_

_C.'_

It was weird how she has ended each day expecting something. That something being the moment where she got home and saw a new letter in her mailbox.

Her eyes always light up.

It is in this moment of self-awareness that Lexa has a kind of epiphany.

* * *

Chapter V 

_'Clarke!_

_Tell me about the future!!_

_How are things in the year 2018?’_

The blonde can’t help but let out a hearty laugh. Truth to be told, she finds it weird that even though they have been having ‘conversations’ for a few weeks, neither of them has asked, ever, about the future, or the past, or the present time, whatever.

'March 13th, 2018.

Dear Lexa,

I’m afraid the word’s pretty much the same. I mean, we all dress in shiny metal jumpsuits and drive flying cars. Also, no-one talks anymore because we can read each other’s mind thanks to an AI.

Sadly, none of that is true. Not entirely. Let me think about a few things. Let’s see, the UK voted in a referendum to leave the European Union. We’ll see how that pans out. There was something about a spaceship called Juno orbiting Jupiter. Prince died! And so did the guy from Playboy Magazine. We get an asshole for president! I don’t know your political affiliations, but, uh—whatever. What else…? I dunno, I mean, a lot of shooting, especially in the US, but there was one in the UK which was unusual. That was at Ariana Grande’s concert. North Korea doing a ‘North Korea’ once again. Did I say our stupid president? He withdraws from the Paris Climate Agreement because according to him 'that shit ain’t true'. Now, is not the best time of the decade to be an immigrant or a woman for the matter. It’s frustrating. Racism, homophobia, sexism… it’s all getting worse.

For human rights, the past, your present is a better time.

But enough about that.

I’ve been thinking about the paw prints. How was that possible?

Tell me something about you.

C.'

Lexa is just pulling into her home when she finishes Clarke’s letter. It embarrasses her a bit to recognize she couldn’t wait to get inside to open the letter. And so she stays outside despite the frosty weather and devours the blonde’s words. When she reaches the last part where Clarke asked for the paw prints, she hears Polpetta barking from inside the house, no doubt welcoming her, as in a clue, knowing they were talking about her.

_'March 17th, 2016_

_Hey, Clarke,_

_Well, I’m a bit torn about reading what the future holds. It does not seem promising or pleasant at all. I believe it's for the best if we don’t talk about random facts, since well, I won’t be capable of changing anything._

_But, before I go back to the paw prints, I must ask, what happened in your future that makes women or immigrants’ rights suffer that much? I mean, so far, we have an excellent president. I know this is his last year, but I refuse to think we will make an immense change for the worse in a few months. Is it possible? What the heck made us vote for something that drastic? I mean, I think Hillary Clinton is running for President and for that I am very grateful._

_I don’t know about your political affiliations, but as you defend matters such as climate change, women’s rights and so on, it can’t be that bad._

_I have been involved with politics in one way or another. During High School, I was Body President and in College; I joined several clubs in defense of LGBT and projects concerned with women's rights and climate change such as CCAC. I hope this doesn’t upset you, though. I always respect different opinions. You don’t need to worry about talking freely about it._

_Honestly, I used to be so very into politics, but for the last year I have disconnected, so I’m a bit lost. I hope whoever won is at least someone able to continue Obama’s policies._

_As I was saying, answering your doubt about the paw prints. I think we have the same dog. I mean, it makes sense. Kinda? Or well, it doesn’t, but according to ‘this’, it makes sense. She is a little puppy who came one day out of the blue while I was painting the footbridge. She was skinny, I thought she was malnourished or something, but the truth is she can eat like a horse. She absolutely adores carrots and apples and oh! Meatballs! It’s insane. She becomes a little monster when there are meatballs involved. That’s why I call her Polpetta._

_Give it a try!_

_Sincerely, Lexa.'_

“Uh? Pol—What? Pol—pol-petta.”

Clarke tries the name out slowly, and jumps with surprise when she sees the dog coming toward her and barking excitedly.

She tries again.

“Well, nice to meet you finally, Polpetta.”

She smiles while scratching behind the dog’s ears.

_'March 24th, 2018._

_Hello, Lexa,_

_Well, about your first statement. Humans have an incredible ability to screw up from time to time. The next few years will be an unpleasant surprise for you. It is what it is._

_I know that ‘this’ is crazy. I haven’t been able to tell what’s been happening to my friends or family ‘cause I’m afraid they’d lock me in some kind of mental institution. But, hey! It works for us!_

_I was Body President during High School too! Along with Debate Club, French Club and GSA. Yep. As you can see, I was a busy student. When I went to college things changed. I literally didn’t have so much time between studies and my friends. I don’t know why I always pin you as the typical jock. It turns out you’re also part of the nerd team. Interesting._

_Anyway, I just can’t believe I just learned my dog’s name after all this time! Well, that’s assuming we indeed have the same dog. My beautiful fur friend is, according to the vet, three years old (in my time). She snores like a little truck and sleeps like a person._

Lexa reads as she boggles at the little puppy, sleeping soundly at her feet, close enough to the fireplace.

_‘I have tried to call her several names, but she always ignored them. I bribed her to get her to respond to me with food or sweet names such as baby girl. However, I tried calling her ‘Polpetta’ (weird name, by the way) and she responded! I mean, she didn’t respond but barked and jumped around me happily._

_P.S. I have attached a pic of her devouring a cucumber._

_Xx. C._

* * *

Time has flown in the last few weeks for Clarke. The workload at the hospital has exploded. After one particularly interminable day at the end of her shift, Dr. Reyes invites her to join the crew for a few drinks. Clarke was close to refusing the offer politely, but then she reminded herself of how lonely her life became a few years ago when she immersed herself with work to the detriment of her health. Clarke took a gamble and accepted the offer to go out with some of her colleagues to enjoy dinner.

The evening turned out to be more fun than she had expected. It turns out that the crew has a powerful bond beyond their work lives. She laughed her ass off with Raven and some lab technician called Jasper. Nurse Lincoln was quiet but sweet. In fact, given his big and strong body, he was surprisingly a teddy bear. Then, there was another nurse, Nylah, sweet and very smart who had given Clarke several intense glances during the evening.

The group was fun. If she was being honest with herself, it's something that Clarke sorely needs.

* * *

Today’s was Monday, and it’s her last day of the week, which appears to be ending on a tiresome shift. She couldn’t wait to get home and sleep for fifteen hours straight. And that was exactly what was in Clarke’s mind when she overhears a few faint voices from one of the patient’s rooms. When she enters the room, she can see a small body looking intently at the old TV where a movie is playing.

Ok. Fine. Fine. Good decision. One last check.

“Hey, sweety,” she says as she gets close to the bed, “what are you doing? You’re supposed to be asleep.”

The young girl spares the blonde doctor a glance before returning her attention to the TV, where voices murmur in the background.

‘The fame thing isn’t really real, you know?’

Now, both of them are watching the movie. Each girl lost in their own thoughts. Enjoying it as Julia Roberts pours her heart out in the classic rom-com, Notting Hill.

‘Remember that, after all, I’m just a girl, standing in front of a boy, asking him to love her.’

“Is he going to turn her down?”

Clarke doesn’t respond, at least not immediately. She spares a glance at the case history from the young patient before turning and locking her eyes with her.

“Well, Madi, what do you think?”

“I don’t know. She’s kinda rude.”

Madi’s reply amuses Clarke, who encourages the girl to elaborate.

“How come?”

“My dad’s last girlfriend was a bit bossy, like her, too.”

Clarke smiles sweetly.

“I mean, she was nice but a bit bossy. My dad didn’t marry her.”

“Didn’t he?”

“My dad said, ‘There’s always something better coming around the corner’” and with that, she shrugs her little shoulders and points to the TV.

“Maybe that’s what the man should do. You know? If he feels she didn’t treat him right, he should wait for something better… to come around the corner.”

Madi’s argument is disconcerting and Clarke scoffs as she looks down at the girl with a newly found respect in her eyes.

“Maybe.” she concedes.

But then elaborates.

“Although if he’s too cautious, he could spend his entire life waiting…”

And with that, they both return their attention to the TV where Hugh Grant’s character is letting Julia Roberts’ walk out of his life.

* * *

' _April 13th, 2018._

_Dear Lexa,_

_I’m truly sorry I haven’t replied to you in almost ten days. I know. I’m the worst. The truth is, I have missed your letters deeply, but I haven’t had a moment to spare._

_The past two weeks I had to enjoy the graveyard shift, which is hard if you’re not used to it. But one of the doctors needed the time off and guess what? They thought of Clarke. I know. They’re the best. And not only that, I had to clean and furnish my new apartment. The number of unpacked boxes was getting a little too much. Even for a micro disaster like me._

_I just wanted to let you know that I’m still here. I enjoy our timeless conversations._

_I hope to hear soon from you,_

_xx. C.'_

Lexa beams like a five-year-old kid when she finds a letter from Clarke in her mailbox. It has been a few weeks since their last contact and she had started to lose hope that she would receive a reply.

_April 14th, 2016._

_Dear Clarke,_

_You should know that you’re my only connection to the future. So, I’m glad you’re back from the night shift and your Ikea phase. I thought I lost you for a moment._

_I know I have never asked personal questions about you. I can’t help it. I’m not nosy. I don’t have a problem with people asking stuff about me, but when it's my turn, I just don’t know what to ask._

_But after this long hiatus, I’ve thought a lot. Last Sunday, as I watched people enjoying the marvelous weather going out with their boats on the lake, I couldn’t help but wonder, how come we never talk about the things we like?_

_Sincerely,_

_Lexa._

Clarke considers for a moment whether Lexa will feel uncomfortable sharing personal information. Although, the brunette is the one to first bring it up. Clarke guesses it’s not a crime if she gets a bit nosy. After all, Lexa gave her a green light. Right?

_April 23rd, 2018._

_Dear Lexa,_

_I just wanted to say, you just gave me permission to be my true self. Shall we pry? If at any moment you feel like I’m too much, you can cheerfully tell me to fuck off. Oops! That’s right. I curse like a stevedore. I know most people say, ‘curse like a sailor’, but that’s something my grandma used to say, so whatever._

_Well, let’s see. I completely love drawing. It is without a doubt my favorite hobby. I must have a hundred sketches of the lake from your living room. Polpetta loves to watch me draw. At first, it felt weird because she tended to stare at me and it made me nervous. With time, I learned how not to break under the pressure of having an audience. Phew._

_I also love reading about museums and painters. I know it might sound weird, but I have several shelves full of biographies of 20th Century artists. I was and always will be a nerd. You know? Thick glasses, a backpack full of books and president of every single club at school? That was Clarke. However, when Saturday came by it was time for Party Animal Griffin to rise._

_I’m not very into sports. I mean, I’m clumsy as fuck, so I can’t even start to pretend I enjoy exercising. However, I truly enjoy watching it. My best friend, Octavia, was/is a jock. She has taught me, as she likes to say, to cheer for her in every single game. Tonight we’re going to a sports bar to watch a hockey game. The Chicago Steel are playing against Tri-City Storm. We made a bet. I totally think we are going to lose. I guess we’ll see._

_What about your hobbies or your friends?_

_I take it that being an architect in Chicago is an enormous deal? Why don’t you tell me some of the best spots in the city?_

_May we meet again._

_xx. C._

Lexa can’t help the warm smile that spreads across her face while reading Clarke’s letter. She happily saw it only took the young doctor a few days to reply to her previous letter which it was more than she could ever ask, given that Clarke has to drive from her place in the city to deliver the letter.

Although Lexa doesn’t realize it, she is growing more and more dependent on these letters. She still goes out; to work, with her sister, to have a drink with her colleagues or to enjoy a meal, but slowly, she is becoming more aware of how much she expects to get home and find a letter from Clarke.

It’s been three months since they began exchanging mail and, as Lexa said, they have shared very little personal information. Still.

Lexa promised herself to pour her true self with the next letter as she grabs a bottle of white wine and goes to the deck with a notebook in one hand and the wine in the other.

_April 19th, 2016._

_Dear Clarke,_

_I don’t find your particular taste in literature weird. It’s original and I’m sure I could entertain myself with such books. So, please, I would love to hear your favorites. I can purchase and enjoy these myself. I will read them out loud, so Polpetta can enjoy them too. Maybe she would prefer your reading out loud because she grew up listening to them. I know that sounds crazy, but who cares anymore._

_I’m a simple woman. And, although I have not much leisure time at my disposal, I quite enjoy reading too. In my case, I have a soft spot for historical novels. I share your passion with art. Sadly, I can’t draw portraits, so please, don’t ask me to draw you like one of my French girls.’_

“Is it too much?”

The brunette wonders aloud as she spares a glance at the dog and sees how Polpetta barks enthusiastically. Lexa takes the risk and leaves it as it is. After all, it’s not disrespectful. At least, she hopes Clarke doesn’t see it like that.

_‘I do enjoy sports too. Especially soccer. My sister used to be in our high school soccer team and I, just like you, cheered for her. I must admit I find fascinating those sports that require a top level of strategy. I’m looking forward to spending some time with my sister this summer watching the European Football Championship. Anya is sure France will win since they’re the host team and have a powerful side. My money, however, is with Germany. Will you give me a little help to make some money, Clarke?_

_Anyway, one of my favorite hobbies is this city itself. Chicago is quite a special place. I know that from movies and art New York or LA always win the contest. But, let me tell you, this city, right here, has nothing to envy from the others. For me, in this city, on a day when the light is clear, you can practically touch every single detail. Every window, every brick in the buildings._

_You know what? Let me show you. Take a walk with me on two Saturdays. I’ll show you the special spots._

_I’ll be looking forward to your letter._

_Sincerely,_

_Lexa._

Just when the brunette writes the last phrase she has an epiphany. She gets up swiftly, almost knocking over the glass of wine, and runs inside the house to start her new and awesome plan.

* * *

“What?!”

Clarke takes a long look around her to make sure no one is close to the mailbox. As soon as she opens it, she grabs a bunch of papers and a detailed tourist map of Chicago.

Ok. She might not be from the city, but she is sure there are a lot of spots she has already seen, at least, the more famous ones. However, she grabs everything and goes back to the car, expecting to read the letter and find out answers to the several questions she has.

“Oh, my God! I can’t believe she did something like that. You’re crazy, Lexa. Why are you going through all this trouble for me?”

She wonders aloud in her car, despite her solitary state. Well, she’s with Polpetta, but still.

She opens the map and sees how Lexa has written every single spot she wants her to visit. She can’t help but look a bit closer than necessary to the brunette’s calligraphy, not that this is the first time she’s seen it, but she can’t help but note how neat the map is.

Every spot has a number and then in the letter, it explains the specific time of day that spot has to be visited and further instructions.

So, the next Saturday, she takes the day off. Clarke wakes up early and wears, as Lexa requested since it was in the mailbox along with the map, a gray shirt with the University of Chicago emblem.

She’s got a date. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't forget to let me know just right down what are your thoughts about the chapters. I'll take a glass of wine for every comment, please don't be mean, I really need some wine. 
> 
> Did you guys catch the reference to Notting Hill? 
> 
> Do you imagine Lexa/Clarke as the nerd/shy type of the jock and popular kind? 
> 
> Stay safe and see you next week!


	6. A walk to remember

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Many thanks to [underthecovers](https://archiveofourown.org/users/underthecovers/pseuds/underthecovers) for proofreading the chapter. Don't forget to check out her stories! 
> 
> Enjoy!

Previously on The Lake House...

She opens the map and sees how Lexa has written every single spot she wants her to visit. She can’t help but look a bit closer than necessary to the brunette’s calligraphy, not that this is the first time she’s seen it, but she can’t help but note how neat the map is.

Every spot has a number and then in the letter, it explains the specific time of day that spot has to be visited and further instructions.

So, the next Saturday, she takes the day off. Clarke wakes up early and wears, as Lexa requested since it was in the mailbox along with the map, a gray shirt with the University of Chicago emblem.

She’s got a date. 

* * *

Chapter VI

Clarke starts reading.

_‘Two Saturdays later in 2018_

_Dear Clarke,_

_I have attached a second letter to provide some instructions to help you fully enjoy the day._

_Firstly, it’s no trouble._

_Summer’s almost here, which means you’ll be perfectly fine wearing this awesome t-shirt from the University of Chicago. My alma mater. Get ready, Clarke. I won’t take you to 360 Chicago because that’s too common. Also, because I have never been there._

_We will start with a trip to Wrigley Field. Since you told me how you enjoy sports (watching them at least) I knew you would enjoy this particular spot._

_As I’ve said before, during high school my sister played soccer. What I didn’t tell you is how I had the biggest crush on one girl who was in a grade above me who played softball. She was captain of the softball team. We never became a thing because she had a boyfriend and well, was straight. Typical, right? You’re not part of the community if you have never had a stupid crush with a straight girl. Regardless of my broken heart, I went to several softball games for two years (I know, painful.) As you may well imagine, the house of the Chicago Cubs quickly became_ one of my favorite’s places in Chicago _._

_What many people don’t know is that the best part of Wrigley Field is the tour around the stadium. I spent several weekends with my dad and my sister there. I was hooked on baseball. Over time the crush became a memory, but now I still enjoy watching baseball from time to time._

_The second stop will be a museum. Since you are a big fan of them in general, I will guess that you have visited most of them already. Because of that, I have placed number two on our map, one of the most uncommon museums in the Windy City, and since you’re a doctor, I think it’s perfect!_

_I’m talking about the International Museum of Surgical Science. I had the chance to go in Sophomore year. I can’t say I enjoyed it, per se, since I’m not very fond of needles, blood and such things; but something I will never forget is an Austrian amputation dated from the 16 th Century. I believe we both will remember it, but for reasons uniquely our own._

It was almost lunchtime when Clarke got to the museum. And Lexa was right. Even though the blonde has enjoyed visiting several museums in the city, and they were spectacular, the Surgical Museum wasn’t one of them. Shame on her. 

She takes the subway for the next spot and admires how beautiful Chicago looks on a sunny day like this. The park looks gorgeous and a few people are wandering around enjoying the warm weather. She takes a seat on the grass and enjoys the lemonade she bought from a vendor nearby. Then she continues reading Lexa’s letter.

_Chicago has several parks, and they are all beautiful. I’m sure you know that already. However, moving you along to number three on the map, you will ride to Oz Park. What is so special about this park? Well, it’s with a little mortification that I must admit that Dorothy played a very important part in my ‘awakening’ as a lesbian. I know how terrible I am. I had a crush (before the softball girl) which at that time I didn’t know was a crush. Obviously. My sister Anya used to make fun of me and one day took me to Oz Park where you can find a statue of Dorothy from The Wizard of Oz. No shame._

“Oh.” 

Clarke surprises herself by saying this out loud. She chuckles a bit when she discovers how obsessed the architect was back then with Dorothy, and remembers how she used to dress for several Halloweens like the character from The Wizard of Oz. Something she notes to tell Lexa in future letters. Also, she saves the morsel of information that says that Lexa is gay. Or at least into women. She has said before she was interested in issues related to LGBT, but never openly claimed to be part of it. I mean, she could have been an ally; so, knowing she was into girls just sparks something in her. 

Just because.

_Our last visit for the day will be_ Fort Willow. _It’s a cozy, yet spectacular place to grab a bite to eat, cocktails, etc. I think you will love it. It might seem very fancy and an ‘it’ place, but it’s actually a lovely, quiet place to have a drink._

_I hope I didn’t bother you too much. I was thinking we could do this every once in a while, so you get to know the places I like but not tire of me._

_Now it's your turn. Tell me, Clarke, your favorite things. Anything you would recommend?_

_Sincerely,_

_Lexa._

* * *

Clarke is exhausted and spends Sunday chilling and eating too much junk food. She thinks she has no reason to feel bad since she spent Saturday visiting all the spots Lexa recommended, which resulted in several miles of walking. She deserves pizza. Sue her. 

_May 3 rd, 2018_

_Dear Lexa,_

_I can’t believe you have never been to 360 Chicago. Who are you? How on Earth can you call yourself an artist? I know what you are going to say, ‘I’m not an artist, Clarke, I just a proportion from scratch’. Boooring._

_Now, seriously, let me tell you, it is a miracle that I’m attempting to write your letter on a Sunday afternoon after all the places I visited yesterday. I’m dead! Clearly, I should hit the gym again. Or just hit the gym, for all that matters._

_I had a blast yesterday, Lexa! There are so many places I didn’t have any idea they existed, and I loved them! I’m totally down for your plan, I’ll be glad to visit some new places every once in a while._

_I didn’t have time to check Fort Willow, although it is defo in my ‘to-do list’ for my next day off. I’m a sucker for a good cocktail. You know, I used to be a bartender through med school and I’m quite picky when it comes to my drink. Also, I was known as Party Animal Griffin. I’ll let you know what I think!_

Lexa stops reading and double-checks the last paragraph. She can’t help it. She’s always been a sucker for a girl who can hold her drink. So, she makes a note to save that information and pose further questions.

“What do you think, Polpetta? Should we act a bit stalkerish and look up Clarke Griffin on the Internet?” 

The dog growls a bit, so Lexa decides she should let the situation be and doesn’t become a creep.

She pouts, regardless. 

Above all, she is quite enjoying Clarke’s reply. She can’t help the brief smiles as she reads along the lines that tell her how much the blonde loved the small tour. 

_Regarding my favorite things… Let's see, where to start? I might be a little bit obsessed with smells. I mean, I love the smell of fresh paint, fresh flowers and homemade apple pie. Also… I love that moment before it rains, the relative serenity before the storm. Polpetta’s fur calms me immensely. Thank God, she loves cuddles as much as I do. So, yes, I’m a cuddler. I practically hover over the people who sleep with me, I use them as my personal heater because I’m always, always cold._

_I never asked you, are you married? Please feel free to cheerfully tell me to fuck off if you don’t want to share that kind of information. I am a naturally curious being._

_May we meet again, xx._

_C._ _’_

Clarke has become a breath of fresh air and little does Lexa know how much the blonde craves the architect’s letters too. 

* * *

From that day, the girls exchanged letters every week, and the level of intimacy and closeness is so unusual for Lexa. And yet welcome. 

The brunette tried to tease Clarke continually.

_'You didn’t forget to mention your handsome husband, did you?'_

Little did she know; Clarke was not a woman to back off from a challenging situation.

_‘Well, of course, Lexa. I love my hubby very much! Just so you know, he’s also a doctor. Plastic surgeon for small and abandoned farm animals. Also! He donated 80% of his paycheck to different shelters. His favorite hobbies are making a delicious plate of food and giving me foot rubs.’_

Lexa gives a little smirk as she sees how Clarke didn’t step back from her teasing. She is not per se, a person who jokes around, and most of her friends have a tendency to make fun of her brooding personality; but with Clarke, she feels very comfortable to show this side of herself.

_'I’m happy to hear about the perfect husband you have. I’m married too. I’ve got four children, and none of them look and act like me, but my wife keeps saying something about how natural it is that she only gets pregnant every time she goes to an unexpected work conference with her - very much my children look alike - boss. Should I be worried, Clarke?'_

Clarke’s nose crinkles with a smile. 

_'I would be worried too, Lexa. She’s clearly trying to make you pay for the children's future college fund._

_The truth is, I’m single. Painfully single, as my best friend would say. And my mother. And lately, my colleagues. Ok. It might be true. But for the record, it’s not my fault I can’t find someone that loves to cook delicious food to feed us Griffin girls. And by us, I mean Polpetta and me.'_

Her stupid gay-heart makes a little flip. 

“Someone, huh,” Lexa hums to herself while scratching the puppy’s little tummy. 

_'Don’t worry, Clarke. I’m painfully single too. I was actually—engaged a few years ago. But not anymore. A story for another day.'_

Clarke’s heart hurts a little for the brunette.

_'I’m sorry. Of course, don’t worry Lexa. I only want you to feel comfortable and safe with me, so I won’t make you talk about things that upset you._

_My last serious relationship ended when I found my boyfriend hooking up with half of DC and since then I haven’t been very comfortable dating. I mean, I have. But I don’t know. I feel like it takes a huge toll every time I start over, and over, and over again. It’s exhausting. If you ask me to go on a first date and get to know somebody - nowadays I am always thinking about banalities such as ‘is this dress appropriate?’ What if I say something they don’t agree with? My schedules, blah-blah-blah.’_

It surprises Lexa at how many things they have in common. The doctor seems like a very sweet and kind young woman, and she can’t understand how her idiot of an ex-boyfriend could have messed up something like that. She decides on a change of conversation is for the best.

_‘Don’t mind them, Clarke. There are idiots everywhere. Clearly, he didn't deserve to be the one making delicious food to you, Griffins.'_

Lexa tries to cheer up the blonde.

_'I play the guitar. At least, I used to. When I was in High School, I was this close to forming a band named The Delinquents'_

Clarke feels bold that day and attached to the letter an old photograph with a version of herself from Junior year posing with a guitar next to Octavia with her drums set.

_'Anya keep saying I am obsessed but I wouldn't mind. She loves to tease me arguing that my time estimated of arriving if I'm at Yankee Candle is at least 3 hours. So what? I mean, there's so much to see and smell in there, Clarke. Clarke? Have you ever been in Yankee Candles? Have you smelled their Fall selection, Clarke?'_

The blonde doctor interrupts in a fit of giggles when she sees the small two candles Lexa left on the mail. It's cute how the brunette keeps sendings her insignificant things that, at the same time, become so important to her. The Chicago University t-shirt from a few weeks ago is now one of her favorites and she uses it a lot. Like a lot. 

Their conversations were easy going and nice, but somewhere along the months, they hide bits of the girls. How they truly were. 

_'Her name was Costia. And she was mine.'_

Their deepest fears, regrets...

_'I lost him when I was in college and it was, with a difference, the hardest thing I have ever had to do. I'm not only lost my father that day but my best friend.'_

But they also shared silly and goofies thoughts.

_'Hey, I’m curious. Did you continue to visit the different spots I recommended?’_

Clarke sees right through the distraction and smiles gratefully at the brunette’s letter. 

_‘Yes! I still am! I got my day off last Friday. It was National Donut Day, so I thought I would be the perfect day to have a coffee and a doughnut in your spot. I visited number 27 and let me tell you, I FELL IN LOVE.’_

Lexa beams like a child when she sees how sweet and grateful Clarke is. She lights a few too many candles in her room when she sits down to write and answer the blonde. 

_‘I know, right? She’s a beauty. My dad used to tell me and my sister she was the grandma for all the houses in the city. Whenever he had time, he would take us on these tours since we were little. It was his way to make us feel connected to him. Some tours were a bit boring, but still, it was nice.’_

_‘Lexa?’_

_‘Yes, Clarke?’_

_‘I wish we could have done this walk together.’_

Lexa can’t help but wonder the same thing. How nice it would have been to spend the day with Clarke. 

Walking around the city. 

They could have stopped at…

“Wait…” 

The brunette gets up from her sitting position so quickly that the little sleepy puppy at her feet jumps up in fear. Lexa stops in her tracks and returns to soothe the scared creature. 

“I’m so sorry little girl. Still getting used to having a little bean-like you with me. But I had a perfect idea, Polp, and I wanted to surprise Clarke. What do you think little one, would you help me?”

There is a loud bark from the dog. 

It seems she agrees.

Just like that, the brunette starts the process for her surprise. She will just need another map. 

For now. 

* * *

Two weeks later, Clarke is getting ready to do one of Lexa’s tours around the city. The blonde has grown accustomed to enjoying some of the spots the brunette has recommended on her free days. It would be so nice to be doing all of this with Lexa.

This specific day, the last Sunday of June, Lexa has insisted she visit a little park and café in the Art District. So here she is, sitting in Lexa’s favorite’s café, and more specifically, she’s sitting next to the window that the brunette told her to sit at, enjoying an Oreo milkshake. 

The weather is nice and warm, so it is the perfect temperature for the milkshake. After a moment of checking email and replying to her mom’s texts, she sits back comfortably and lets out a deep sigh. She catches herself wondering, once again, how nice it would be to share this moment with a certain brunette that has stolen an enormous part of her time and her thoughts. 

A loud horn draws her attention outside, and just at that moment, she spots the old wall full of graffiti from across the street. Just in the right corner where she can clearly discern a big message with black spray. 

_‘Clarke, I’m here with you._

_Thanks for the lovely Sunday together._

_L.’_

Clarke runs out of the café and stops in front of the graffiti. She knows she has a goofy smile on her face, but she just doesn’t care. Her mind focuses on the word ‘together’ and a warm calm spreads through her. 

She takes several pictures with her phone before returning to her seat by the window. 

Everything will be fine.

* * *

_‘July 4 th, 2018 _

_Dear Lexa,_

_You have no idea how special that was for me to read your message. I really, really felt you close to me. So thank you. I’m absolutely loving every minute of whatever this is._

_Anyhow, I wanted to give you a little something for your birthday. I don’t know the day, but back, in the beginning, you told me you were a Cancerian, so I guess it has to be around this time. It’s nothing fancy. I didn’t know what would be proper to buy a friend from another time; so I made this CD compilation with some of my favourite artists. All of them are from before 2016 because I didn’t want to give you any spoilers. I’m not sure what kind of music you’re into, but I love Indie music. I wrote the names down and drew the cover myself. It’s silly. I don’t know. I hope you like it. My favorite is a song called Elusive. I even got a tattoo with its lyrics. So yeah. Let me know what you think._

_Do you have any plans for the 4 th of July? I’m stuck at work. So, please have a cold beer and a burger for me, ok? _

_May we meet again. Xx._

_C._ _’_

Lexa is in awe when she finishes Clarke’s letter. She can’t wait to tell her how wonderful the holiday was. Don’t lie, Lexa. You can’t wait to tell her how drunk she got Anya. There are too many things that catch her attention and she needs a bit of time to think about the letter. 

For starters, the CD. Lexa finds it completely adorable that Clarke remembered her birthday (or month, at least) and took the time to make her a little gift. She loved it. So, she reads the letter again, but this time with the CD playing in the background. Despite being, according to Clarke, songs from her ‘age’, she barely recognizes them. She’s never been a big fan of music, and much less Indie music; but inexplicably, she enjoys it. 

Secondly, she pays particular attention to the song Elusive. She likes the lyrics. They’re refreshing. The young architect plays the same one a few times and tries to imagine what part of the lyrics Clarke has tattooed. 

Because, by the way, Clarke has tattoos? That’s hot. Lexa has a few tattoos as well. For some strange reason, she had not imagined Clarke, an all-mighty doctor, with ink. 

So, the doctor is not only a smart woman with a great taste in music but also can hold her liquor, play guitar and has tattoos. 

Oh, oh. 

What’s next? Is she a big Harry Potter fan? 

“Please don’t let her be a Slytherin,” the brunette can’t help but wonder out loud. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I’ve never been to Chicago (I wish). I hope the little selection I made, live up to your expectations. There are too many places to see in the Windy City since it's gorgeous. Have you ever visited Chicago? What city would you like to visit the most? 
> 
> Comment below and let me know what are your thoughts about the date. I think they're so cute. 
> 
> ALSO, what House (Harry Potter) do you think our girls are? 
> 
> Don't forget to take a look at my other Clexa Movies AU:
> 
> [Wedding Crashers](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21270506/chapters/50643110) and [Notting Hill](https://archiveofourown.org/works/19434865/chapters/46253476)
> 
> See you next week.


	7. Meet the family

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you from the bottom of my heart, [underthecovers](https://archiveofourown.org/users/underthecovers/pseuds/underthecovers) for proofreading the chapter. Don't forget to check out her stories! 
> 
> Enjoy!

Previously on The Lake House...

Lexa is in awe when she finishes Clarke’s letter. She can’t wait to tell her how wonderful the holiday was. Don’t lie, Lexa. You can’t wait to tell her how drunk she got Anya. There are too many things that catch her attention and she needs a bit of time to think about the letter. 

So, the doctor is not only a smart woman with a great taste in music but also can hold her liquor, play guitar and has tattoos. 

What’s next? Is she a big Harry Potter fan? 

“Please don’t let her be a Slytherin,” the brunette can’t help but wonder out loud. 

* * *

Chapter VII 

Not in a million times would Clarke have imagined herself telling a co-worker about the timeless and unspecified relationship with a total stranger (Ok. Lexa was not a stranger anymore).

But here she is.

She had told Raven everything. Ok, almost- everything. She had even shown her some of the letters. The less personal ones, at least.

She knew what this looked like. But, in all honesty, she needed to tell someone. She was driving herself crazy with this situation, and all the feelings that little by little have started to wander around inside her every time she reads and thinks about Lexa.

She needed a second opinion.

A new pair of eyes.

So, she called Raven. Who, in her defense, has grown deeply on her during the last few months.

They have shared dinners, beers, several glasses of wine, and hours at work that made the two women bond over time.

“So, what do you think?”

The Latina hasn’t said anything since the beginning of the story.

“I dig it!”

“Uh, what?”

“I _said_ : ‘I dig it’, Clarkey,” she returns to her usual chirpy self while devouring a foot-long BLT sandwich.

Oh.

“Okaay… Anything else? I mean— What exactly are you digging?”

I mean it could be the sandwich, the letters from a different timeless person, or the fact that she looks like a teenager with a stupid crush over someone she’s never met. You can dig a lot of things in this context. Just… let's make the point clearer. Thank you very much. “She has quite a sexy penmanship.”

Confusion pops up in cerulean eyes.

“C’mon, Raven, I asked you for help because I wanted a fresh pair of eyes. I need advice. Look at the date on the letter” says the blonde while shoving one of the letters. Like saying look at the main problem here, bitch, she writes from 2016!

The Latina rolls her eyes.

Hard.

And shoves the letter back.

“Oh, so, you mean to ask what I think about the fact that someone allegedly wrote you a letter FROM THE PAST?”

“Of fucking course, Raven! It’s not like that is a small detail!”

But the Latina, surprising Clarke once again, just waves her hand dismissively.

“That’s just a fact, Clarkey. My family has Mexican heritage. My abuela told us about some scary shit she lived. We do believe in weird things. So what? A timeless romance with a stranger? I dig it.”

And just with that she takes another bite and continues to munch happily on her sandwich.

“Do you really believe this is possible? Because I have seen it. You, on the other hand, just have my word.”

“Well, if you’re making up the idea of a sexy architect from 2016 writing you letters, I mean, woman, your life is much more boring than mine.”

“So, what is all this supposed to mean?”

The Latina seems to be choosing her next words carefully.

“Everything happens for a reason,” she says with a very serious tone.

“Did you just quote the new episode from Black Mirror that we watched the other day.”

“Yep.”

Clarke whines.

Yes.

Whines.

And then looked at Raven with lost puppy eyes.

“Listen, Clarke. Listen carefully, because I won’t say it twice.”

The blonde leans toward Raven.

“This sandwich is the best in town, and I would fight whoever dares to say otherwise. Also, I think you should ask her on a date.”

* * *

Today was the day.

She was nervous.

Scratch that.

She wasn’t nervous. She was troubled. Unsettled.

Ok.

A bit nervous, perhaps.

She had to wait for almost an hour, which was, just for starters, a bad start.

She hates waiting.

He knows she hates waiting. But as her father used to tell her – clearly feeling like he was some kind of Chinese fortune cookie- ‘It takes time to build castles’.

“Alexandria”

A deep voice interrupts her thoughts and she looks up to see her father entering the main office. Once he has her attention, he becomes silent, and the air changes. The relationship with her father has always been like that.

Awkward.

Well, not always.

So, she turns around and gives her father her back, hoping he can use the extra time to recollect his thoughts. She takes a look around. The library was indeed a marvelous place in the house. It was used as his main studio to work from home, several shelves and piles of books were piled everywhere.

She breathes deeply and the smell of books floods her nostrils.

She loves this room.

Or used to.

“I’m sorry about the other day, Alexandria. It was not a good moment.”

“Of course, father.”

It is not that their relationship is in a bad place.

Which it might seem.

They’ve always communicated like that.

There was a lot of love between Gustus and his children but, unlike other families, his ways of showing it were less than conventional. When Lexa was a little girl, they bonded over books and pictures, and as soon she was old enough to draw the Woods communicated through sketches and work.

Designs of castles taken from Disneyland when small and of incredible houses taken from prestigious magazines when the girls grew up.

“You’ve got a fine collection here, father.”

The brunette says as she passes her long fingers through some old books and framed pictures.

Some of them were new to her since the last time she was here was almost six years ago.

“Life would be senseless without music…”

Chinese fortune cookies act again.

“Yeah” the daughter doesn’t miss a beat, “Nietzsche would agree.”

A dry chuckle comes from the tall man.

“I guess I taught you well. Please, pour yourself a drink.”

The brunette can’t help the snort at her father reprimand.

“Can you appreciate a good wine by now, Alexandria?”

“Mockery is not the product of a strong mind, father.”

She sasses back while grabbing a bottle of what looks like very expensive wine.

“You know, daughter of mine, you’ll have to forgive your old father, but I’m curious. Where have you been all these years?”

Lexa chooses to ignore the questions and Gustus understands her daughter doesn’t want to talk about her past.

Yet.

She walks towards her father and finds him writing some notes.

“What are you working on?”

“I’m just remembering things. It’s not such an easy job, let me tell you…” a comfortable silence, “nor is it particularly innocent, in my case.”

She nods because, really, what else can she say?

Gustus takes the silence as a sign to continue his monologue.

“Your father is writing his memories…”

She bit nervously on her cheek.

“Are we in…?”

“Do you wanna be?”

“Do you?”

She counters back without missing a beat.

He sighs perhaps a bit tired of how the conversation is going nowhere.

“You and your sister were a part of your father’s life” he explains solemnly.

“Why are you talking to me in the third person?”

“Because I’m writing about myself, I suppose.”

This is it.

The conversation is going nowhere so the young architect decides its for the best to end it, which means doing exactly what she came to do.

“I thought you might like these.”

She goes back to the exit where she placed her Alvin ice tubes, takes them, and hands them to her father.

“What are these? Something you’ve been working on?”

He is looking visibly more relaxed now. That’s the way It is. Both are better with each other while talking about something they still have in common.

“No, actually, they’re yours.” Lexa hesitates for a moment.

“From a house I just bought on the lake.”

She finishes as he opens it and grabs the blueprints. As he surveys them, the tall man can’t help to grimace slightly.

This had been his dearest project.

Neither of them was ready to talk about that.

Not yet.

So, he does what the Woods do best.

Deflection.

“Indulge your father. Where have you been? I really want to know.”

“I was trying to forgive you,” Lexa replies with a hoarse voice before finishing her statement, “trying to forgive me.”

He knows what she is talking about.

“Did you succeed?”

A short answer.

“No.” 

* * *

The weeks have been hectic and exhausting. The young doctor couldn’t wait to end her shift in… two hours and thirty minutes and go home.

“Charging 360! Get 1 milligram of epi.”

But for now, she is in full doctor mode on.

“—have 300 amio ready in case we need it. Got it?”

The patient was drifting away.

“Hold compression, start bagging.”

“C’mon!!” A tired Clarke mutters under her breath.

Lincoln was about to give up, but Clarke wasn’t having it.

And when everything was about to drift apart.

“We’ve got a pulse.” Clarke shouts excitedly. “Slow and easy, c’mon.”

Longs days, these days.

After a quick trip to the grocery store to buy some food, she’s back to the house. It’s been a crazy shift, but Clarke couldn’t be happier. They have managed to keep everyone safe. And that was a small victory.

_'July 23rd, 2018._

_Dear Lexa,_

_I just worked 45 hours straight. I’m exhausted. Every time I stop to take a breath, I realize how isolated I’ve let myself become. I’ve been in the city for a few months now and the most exciting things I do – besides talking with someone from the past- is going out once a week with my colleagues to grab a drink and play chess with Polpetta._

_Don’t judge me, our dog can really put a good game when she’s into it._

_Our tour through Chicago really opened my eyes to its beauty. I can’t believe how many special places I’ve been missing after visiting the city several times throughout my childhood. I can’t help but think, however, that seeing this city through an architect's eyes is a gift. Do your friends try to bring you on their holidays so you can explain to them everything they visit? Do they torment you when you fail a question about the art of architecture on games night? Because I sure feel awful when I fail the green cheese from Trivial Pursuit. Oh! Wait! Is Trivial Pursuit a pie or a cheese? Also, what are your feelings regarding pineapple on pizza?_

_Anyway, back to Earth, Griffin. As I was saying before I lost myself. Are you the kind of person who opens Safari to check out anything and an hour later is lost in the back hole that is Youtube?_

_So many questions, Lex, so many questions._

_And again, come back. Now for good. You know the other day while I was playing Parcheesi with Polpetta, I realized how much my heart misses the lake house… and its trees. And it’s kinda weird because I’ve always been a city type of gal, but, damn, I fell for that greenery. Let me know how your week went, ok?_

_Take care. Xx. C.’_

Lexa had used her lunch break to read the letter she picked from the mail that morning. Unable to wait until she arrived home. Her coworkers did not understand why the brunette had been laughing while having her sandwich all by herself in her tiny desk in one corner of the trailer. Little did they know about a blonde doctor who occupied more and more time each day in Lexa’s thoughts.

So, as soon she finishes the letter, Lexa glances outside where she can see a bunch of little trees brought in order to plant them on the construction site she was working at. Suddenly, a crazy idea crosses her mind.

She steps out, grabs some stuff, and rushes to the car.

In all honesty, she didn’t think planting a tree would be that hard but when she arrives at the same spot where Clarke’s apartment will be, she sees her little idea might be a bit more difficult to implement.

Ok. For starters, the large banners displaying the apartments do not, in fact, show any trees. Actually, looking around, Lexa can’t see anything slightly alike to a form of green which in her opinion is tremendously sad.

She knows she is an architect, but she can’t help herself and gravitates towards any form of nature such as trees, lakes… anything alive.

That’s the reason her sister always tends to make fun of her calling her ‘biophilic nut’. The brunette doesn’t understand how wanting to blend natural things with her passion was something people would use to make fun of her.

"Idiots," she mutters under her breath.

Clarke has chosen to move to a boring and plain complex of apartments. Something incredibly common in big cities, such as Chicago.

But the blonde regretted her decision and now was missing the green from the lake house. For this reason, the young architect finds herself dragging through the cold and wintry night, a big bag with soil and a planter with a small tree.

She will bring back the green to Clarke.

Easier said than done. However. 

* * *

Clarke is running like crazy with her bag on her head trying not to become more soaked with the mad rain that was falling in Chicago that night. Just when she is about to step inside the lobby, her bag opens and all her stuff falls spilling onto the floor.

“Fucking perfect.”

One last item left when a resoundingly loud thunderclap made her jump.

“A little help would be nice,” she says sarcastically looking up.

Another clap of thunder reverberates through the building and this time a large shadow appears on her left.

With widened eyes, she looks up to find something that wasn’t there two seconds ago. A single medium yet quite leafy tree adorns the street.

“The fuck?!”

She looks around hoping someone else caught the tree magically appearing, but the street is empty.

“How?!”

She keeps asking out loud herself despite knowing no one can hear nor answer her doubts. Is she going crazy?

You mean crazier than having a friendship through letters with someone who lives two years ago, right Clarke?

“Wait!”

She did tell Lexa she was missing the trees from the lake house.

I mean, it could be. Right?

The blue-eyed woman, now completely soaked, finally enters the lobby without breaking eye contact with the flourishing tree.

* * *

Today was Octavia’s birthday and they had agreed to have a barbeque at Abby’s. Some of her friends and family would be there and Clarke was actually quite happy to see her loved ones together.

She has invited Raven and Lincoln too since they have been so nice to her since the start. She knows that none of them have family, and she wants them to enjoy a day with some home cooked delicious food and good vibes.

Also, Octavia might or might not have begged her to invite Lincoln after she looked up – stalked- the tall brunette nurse on Instagram.

First words after she opens the door.

“You look too skinny!!”

Her godmother, Nia.

And no matter how hard she tries to fight that woman, she won’t win.

“I’m not, Ni. I’m perfectly healthy. These are my colleges. Raven and Lincoln.”

A tall blonde woman in her fifties envelopes the doctor in a big bear hug.

“Yes, you are. Remember how you used to eat half of my apple pie when you were little?”

Raven and Lincoln can’t help their loud and hearty laughter. Both of them trying to picture a very little and chubby Clarke devouring the dessert before dinner time.

Present Clarke’s ears and cheeks flush red.

Her godmother decides to put Clarke out of her misery and introduces herself to the friends.

The small gathering has been perfect, so far. Abby and Nia got to literally stuff everybody with food and Clarke was sure she wouldn’t be able to eat in the following days.

After dinner, everybody sits around a big pit in the backyard and enjoys the duskly light as the sun begins to set.

Raven, who was still eating a piece of pecan pie, Sits next to Clarke.

“Hey, Clarkey, how is your timeless romance?”

Clarke freezes and with widened eyes looks around to make sure no one is eavesdropping.

“First at all, don’t call me that! What are we, seven? And second, will you talk about Lexa a bit louder, I don’t think Mrs. Roberson from across the street heard you! And she’s deaf!"

The Latina starts to move her brow eyes comically or well, she would say suggestively.

“Interesting. You didn’t deny it is, in fact, a romance.”

A loud scoff.

“What? No! It is not a romance, silly. And there’s no romance.” She says a bit louder than normal while fidgeting nervously with her shirt. “It’s complicated. But there’s no romance.” Ok. Clarke message received. “I think.”

Oh.

But the dam is open, and the blonde can’t stop.

“I mean, I don’t know.”

The Latina waves her hand encouraging her friend to keep talking while grabbing another piece of the pie.

“It’s—ugggg!!! I mean, she’s gay”

She whispers loudly. Raven eyes brow kitten together.

“And, that is a problem because…?”

Silence.

Clarke is in her own mind, Raven forgotten. She thinks about how wonderful it would be if she and Lexa could go on an actual date. Raven brow turn into a serious scowl.

Wait, what?!

“Wait. What!” Blue eyes open in panic. “I’m bi, Raven. Chill. Ok? I just got caught in my own thoughts.”

The shoulders of the petit woman visibly relax.

“Did she know you’re bi? I mean, have you guys flirted or something?”

“I haven’t said I’m bi, but I haven’t said I’m straight either. I mean I told her once I was part of the GSA club, so, I don’t know. Maybe she thinks I’m into girls or I’m just an ally. I don’t know. We don’t flirt, it’s just more like talking and telling each other a bunch of stuff. I mean,” now the blonde is a puddle of nerves, “I don’t think we have flirted or maybe we have? We are just very comfortable with each other. You have seen the letters!!” she says accusingly trying to pin on Raven the chaos she was feeling at the moment.

“Uh, Clarkey, take a chill pill. Besides, do you think I don’t know you only showed me SOME of the letters. Let’s say the less interesting ones.” she says smugly and air quotes.

“That’s not true! I mean, they are normal. I’m not hiding anything!”

At this point, Clarke is more talking to herself and Raven lets her be because she has seen how the blonde starts to ramble every time something makes her nervous. It’s kinda cute, in Raven’s opinion. How someone so intelligent, kind, and incredibly beautiful can be so oblivious.

“Do you think I should tell her?”

Oh, thank God, she got there.

“Yeah, why not, what about something along the line ‘Hey, Lexa, my vagina might dig you, wanna go on a date?’”

As soon she replies, the Latina cracks and bursts out in a loud guffaw that has everyone around her looking at them.

“Seriously, Raven? We talked about that already. I can’t ask her on a date. I mean, not like that anyway. How can you be such a good surgeon and that idiot at the same time?”

“Well, just so you know, that’s not incompatible. But, in my case, I’m a genius; so, where I put my mouth, I put my finger.”

“That doesn’t make any sense. I think what you meant is—”

She is interrupted with Raven's finger in her lips silenced her.

_Did she just...?_

Then a small dismissive wave and another piece of pecan pie.

“Ask-her-on-a-date.”

Jesus, the girl can eat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't forget to take a look at my other Clexa Movies AU:
> 
> [Wedding Crashers](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21270506/chapters/50643110) and [Notting Hill](https://archiveofourown.org/works/19434865/chapters/46253476)
> 
> See you next week.


	8. Train to Madison

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you one more time to my dear beta. Everything sounds fancier when you edit my chapters, [underthecovers](https://archiveofourown.org/users/underthecovers/pseuds/underthecovers)  
> Enjoy this one, mates!

Previously on The Lake House...

“What about something along the line ‘Hey, Lexa, my vagina might dig you, wanna go on a date?’”

As soon she replies, the Latina cracks and bursts out in a loud guffaw that has everyone around her looking at them.

“Seriously, Raven? We talked about that already. I can’t ask her on a date. I mean, not like that anyway. How can you be such a good surgeon and that idiot at the same time?”

Then a small dismissive wave and another piece of pecan pie.

“Ask-her-on-a-date.”

* * *

Chapter VIII

“Looks smaller.” 

Both Woods sisters are sitting in the small dock next to the house. 

Lexa was pleasantly surprised when she saw the fancy car approaching her house an hour ago. She was astonished when she recognized her sister getting out of the car and waving at her.

“When did he complete it?” 

“You were two and a half and I was barely a few weeks old,” Lexa replies as she gets up and walks toward the footbridge. Anya follows in her wake. 

The young sister can see how the blonde architect is looking intensely at the house like she is trying to remember any detail from the last time she was here. They both have ambivalent feelings about their first years of life, and they know it. 

Lexa distracts herself grabbing some beers from a small net she hangs from the footbridge. The cold of the lake freezes them in a very short amount of time. A quite clever invention if you were to ask her. 

“You know, dad played cards with Corbusier and Frank Lloyd Wright.” 

Anya teases her sister with inside jokes about their father in his younger years. A significant joke they used to make when they were both teenagers tired of Gustus’s rambling.

Both sisters start laughing so hard they almost fall into the lake. 

* * *

Somehow after a few beers, they end up on the top of the house. 

“There should be a stairway down into the water.”

It's a typical tipsy Anya argument. 

It seems Anya didn’t have enough to drink the last few times she’s spent time with her sister. Somehow, the Woods sisters always end up tipsy and end up making some not so clever decisions. 

And here we go because there’s nothing that can stop nerd-tipsy Lexa. 

“A glass box with a view to everything that’s around you,” she fantasises looking around the forest beyond the lake. 

“Lack of privacy,” Anya counters, but nerd Lexa isn’t listening and continues her rambling.

Like father; like daughter. 

“There’s no connection between you and what you’re looking at!”

But the blonde can’t see it.

“I don’t know… you know? He’s got this big maple growing right in the middle of the house.” 

“Containment!” 

Lexa shouts excitedly with widened eyes and then adds more calmly, “and control!” 

Then, she types in a little remote control from her pocket and the crystal roof opens showing part of the tree.

The blonde can’t quite see it yet. 

But Lexa is on a roll.

“I mean, it’s beautiful. Seductive even—” 

Anya scoffs and snorts loudly before saying, “but it’s incomplete." 

“It was all about him” 

Her sister finally understands when she sees the big maple majestically standing in the middle of the house. 

Lexa approaches her sister and embraces her in a half hug.

“Dad knew how to build a house, not a home.” 

A simple curt nod.

“You know, Anya, I think he wants us to do what he couldn’t. But admitting that…” 

She leaves the end of the statement in the air. 

“…would mean admitting that he came up short in some way that he could do more. I know, little sis,” Anya sighs.

Finally, on the same page after all these years, both sisters sit next to each other and contemplate the beautiful dawn upon the lake. They can hear the sounds of Lexa’s playlist drifting from the house, echoing across the water and it transports both of them to a different time.

“Do you remember being here with mom?” Lexa asks softly. 

“I remember she tried to make it work here, with us… with him.”

Her eyes glisten at the faint memories. 

Woods are terrible at feelings. 

So, a change of conversation is necessary.

“Hey, what about you? In whatever hell are you working now? Sandboxes?”

“What about it?”

The small smirk on Lexa's face says it all. 

“C’mon. You can’t convince me you’re happy building that. Nobody’s gonna admire you for that.”

“Well, you can’t convince me you’re happy building fancy and boring condos for rich men and I don’t think a lot of admiration will come from that, either.”

Now Anya is the one with an insufferable smirk.

“So, why won’t we do something about it. You and me.”

“I’m sorry, Anya. I can’t. I have…” a small pause, “I have other plans.”

Anya scoffs because after so many years she can really read her sister.

“You have a girlfriend.” 

Half a question. More of a statement.

Another pause.

“No”

“You hesitate.”

“I didn’t hesitate.”

“Yes, you did.”

Lexa’s brow furrows and she makes a funny twist to her lips which is always a dead giveaway to her sister.

“I don’t have time for that…”

“What does _time_ have to do with it?” 

Key word. 

The brunette nips her lip nervously before looking at her sister. 

Anya is sporting a light grin because she knows Lexa has given up already.

“Ugh! Man, you’re gonna think I’m crazy.”

* * *

_“August 12_ _th_ _, 2016._

_Dear Clarke,_

_I’m sorry I haven’t had time to reply to you before. Work has been crazy, and my sister Anya finally came to visit the lake house a few days ago._

_We have seen each other a few times recently, but I was always the one who went to her house or a pub. The other day I went to see my father, and I don’t know why but I decided on inviting Anya to the lake house a few days after seeing him._

_We had a really good time. We sat outside and grilled some food. It was lovely. I think part of her wants to move in with me, mostly to be with Polpetta. However, she’s not very comfortable at the lake house. She says it is the lack of privacy. I believe she just loves to have her feet on the ground._

_I told her about you. About us. Exchanging letters, I mean. I hope you don’t mind. I mean, she doesn’t know your name or anything in particular just that we talk. Given that she’s one of the most logical people I’ve ever met, I counted on her looking at me like I’d lost my mind. That’s why it really surprised me when after long hours of mockery, she finally said she was going to support me, whatever this was. I was going crazy saving all the questions and doubts to myself._

_Anyway, just so you know, that’s pretty much what I’ve done these past weeks. Work is fine. Just the usual. The summer is practically ending, which, in a sense, I’m looking forward to. My favorite season is fall. And I bet the lake house is going to look lovely._

_A big hug from Polpetta._

_Yours,_

_Lexa.'_

Clarke saw it. 

Something had definitely changed.

She was relieved to see she wasn’t the only one who was going crazy with this strange relationship. Honestly, she was happy that Lexa had her sister to talk about it; and it was in that moment when she was reminded of Raven’s words practically ordering her to ask the brunette out for a date. 

She wasn’t that on-going, but, seeing how Lexa’s last letter was a bit more personal and comfortable. It was the right time perhaps, to take a small step. 

_“August 27_ _ th _ _, 2018._

_My dear Lexa,_

_Are you willing to play a game with me? I’ll explain from the beginning._

_The other day I was cleaning some old boxes from my closet and I found a picture from two years ago._

_My mom prepared a barbecue that day with my friends and family and it was a wonderful and very special day._

_At that time, I just found out a few months earlier that my boyfriend from med-school had been cheating on me for months. I was not only heartbroken but also self-conscious. It really did a number on me knowing I wasn’t enough to make my partner faithful. With time, I realized I was more hurt and upset than heartbroken since the relationship had been going through a rocky time for a while._

_I’m telling you that because, after I saw the picture, I remember how upset I felt that day for a terrible and silly mistake and I’m asking your help to see if you can fix it._

_On September 17_ _ th, 2016 _ _, I was taking the 145 train to Madison from Riverside station and forgot something there. It was a gift from my father._

_I remember I was upset as I’d been receiving non-stop texts from my ex and I couldn’t make him stop. I was so over him, but apparently, he grew tired of his last conquest and wanted to win me back. I told him to get lost over and over with little success._

_Anyway, I was waiting near the benches for the train around 11 am. If you find it, can you please put it in the mailbox? It would mean A LOT._

_Yours,_

_C.'_

It was Saturday 17th, and Lexa has been pacing like a madwoman for two hours. She couldn’t believe her luck when she saw the letter from Clarke a few weeks ago. 

Lexa was having a little meltdown as she wasn’t sure what Clarke had been suggesting telling Lexa of her exact location. Should she go and pick whatever the young doctor lost? Should she go a bit before the time and try to make contact with her? They have been talking non-stop for eight months and Lexa didn’t understand the logic behind what was happening, but she has grown attached to Clarke’s letters. 

Clarke had been going back and forth to the lake house every time her shift at the hospital allowed her to pick up and deliver their mail. Lexa was grateful for that because so far, she didn’t know another way to stay in contact with Clarke. 

She still remembers the late day in August when she had that conversation with her sister Anya. 

Anya has been trying to actively support Lexa, but both of them knew that she was too logical and practical to truly believe her sister. However, she has shown a warmer side by trying, at least, to listen to her sister and give her some advice. 

Since that day, the two letters they exchanged have been a little bit more open and personal. From both sides. Lexa struggles a bit as everyone knows how reserved she is, but Clarke had a way to see through her that she finds endearing. 

And terrifying. 

Because the last time she felt something close to that was with Costia. 

Despite almost nine years having passed, Lexa still felt chills every time she remembers her former fiancé. The hazel-eyed woman has been a constant in Lexa’s life through high school and college. They were a sweetheart couple. They were meant to be forever. 

But their forever, after all, wasn’t meant to be.

Costia has grown tired of long nights by herself and living with someone completely focused on their career. It has become Lexa’s obsession. And her father was one of the main reasons. Since she was a little girl, she’s been pushed to be better. To become the best. It didn’t matter how many times Costia begged the young soon to be an architect to slow down and live a little. But Lexa was driven. 

One rainy night, Gustus had made Lexa stay back again. She was just an intern inside her father's firm, and she needed to prove she was worth the spot. She has argued with her lover, once again because of that. That night when she came home, she found a little note telling her Costia was done with the waiting, and how different they had become to the point of being practical strangers in their own home. 

An hour later she received a phone call from the hospital. A drunk driver had T-boned her car and the hazel-eyed beauty had died on her way to the hospital. 

It took years to realize how toxic her life was 

So, she walked away. 

* * *

She was yet to talk to Clarke about Costia. Or specifically, about how she died. Lexa has mentioned her, which was according to Anya, a big first step. 

So, here she was, in her living room going over and over in her head about what to do. How to approach the situation. 

It’s 10 am. 

Polpetta is looking at her intensely. 

She just doesn’t know what-to-do.

“Fuck it.” 

With that, she gets up, and after making sure the not so little anymore puppy has water in her bowl, she grabs a jacket and runs to the car. 

She is going to meet Clarke. 

* * *

She was ten minutes away from the train station and it was 10:30. Time enough. She has been typing furiously on the wheel the whole trip. 

She’s nervous.

Clarke makes her nervous. 

Destiny is a funny thing.

Right?

Flat tire. 

“Goddamnit, Lexa!” 

Ok, relax. You’ve got time. 

I mean, if you know how to change a flat tire. 

Luckily for our story, Lexa is a pro and only needs ten minutes. 

She’s on time! 

Barely. 

* * *

She walks inside and sees a bunch of people getting inside the train. 

She’s a bit breathless.

Kids, grandmas, moms, friends here and there. She can see two couples sitting together. One of them engrossed in a very steamy kiss. 

She keeps walking until the end.

She’s looking for a young blonde woman. 

Maybe she’s inside the train already.

“Final call for the 11:03 to Madison. All aboard!!” 

Just when she reaches the end of the platform, she turns around and spots a flash of red getting inside the train. 

She surveys the station quickly and runs to the benches surveying the area. There she finds a man’s silver watch. As soon she grabs it, she runs to the window.

But the train is moving so fast. 

So, the only thing she can do is lift her arm and show the watch to whoever is inside, hoping Clarke is sitting by the window.

She sees a redheaded woman lean forward, eyes narrowing. Then she spots a flash of red moving frantically inside the train as if they’re looking for something. 

And then the train is gone. 

* * *

_‘September 18_ _ th _ _, 2016_

_Dear Clarke,_

_I found it! I mean, I think I found it. I have a man’s watch so I suppose it was your father's. If that’s the case. Don’t worry. I have it with me. One day I’ll get it to you. Trust me. I know how important it is to you._

_You might not remember, but I think we saw each other. Well, at least, I saw you. Through the blurred glass. It wasn’t very clear, though. I was looking for someone blonde! I remembered how you told me in one of your letters that a kid from the hospital said that your hair was yellow like the sun._

_I never thought you could have dyed your hair, so I stepped inside the train station looking for a blonde woman like a bull in a china shop._

_You never told me how beautiful you are.’_

C’mon Lexa, just do it.

_‘I’ve been thinking, why don’t we just get together in the future since well, the past would be a bit weird since you don’t know me. I went to the train station with the sole reason of the meeting, it didn’t occur to me how cray-cray I might have sounded to you._

_So, my future and your present will be a better option, I believe._

_You don’t know how I look, so it’s only fair._

_If you fancy, perhaps?_

_Let me know what you think of my proposal._

_Yours,_

_Lexa’_

Is she flirting?

Clarke is freaking out.

Hard.

“She is definitely flirting, right? Right?!” 

She waves the letter in front of the dog. 

Polpetta barks back.

_Twice_.

“Yes. I know. She is flirting.” 

Clarke yelps excitedly and goes to the kitchen to open a bottle of wine. 

Polpetta tilts her head at the blonde.

“What!? Don’t judge. I know it’s a weekday, but this calls for a celebration, right baby girl?” 

The dog finally caves in and lets out another bark. 

“Ok. Ok. Stop moping. I’ll bring you a treat,” the blonde says as she goes to the refrigerator and grabs a small bowl of baby carrots for the little dog. 

“Here you go, little girl. We. Are. Celebrating. How about we reply to mama, yes?”

She takes the notepad and looks to the infinite trying to find some inspiration to accept Lexa’s date without saying the word date. Because the brunette didn’t use it, and she wasn’t 100% sure, the architect meant a date-date. 

I mean, it could be a friend-date. Or a date-date.

Right?

_‘September 24_ _ th _ _, 2018_

_Dear Lexa,_

_It’s a date.’_

Scratch that.

Damn, Griffin, so much for originality.

_‘September 24_ _ th _ _, 2018_

_Dear Lexa,_

_I’m so happy to hear you got my father’s watch! It’s crazy. I’ve been sulking for two years because of that terrible mistake and now I might get it back! So happy._

_I’m sorry I forgot to tell you about my change of look. I actually didn’t think for a second you were going to go looking for a blonde woman. I don’t actually know what I was expecting. I mean, it’s a bit silly to give someone instructions to find something from somebody and don’t tell them how they look, right? I suppose I was nervous._

_I’ve always been blonde. However, I was a redhead for a few months in 2016. Not my best moment, I admit. As I said, I was a bit sad and upset with my ex- situation and well, I just wanted to feel different. I thought the best way to get through it was to look different._

_I don’t know if that makes any sense. I don’t recall seeing you from that day. I just entered the train and after a few seconds, something caught my attention outside… Like a flash. It might have been a bird or something, I don’t know. The next thing was I tapped my wrist and found out my father’s watch wasn’t there._

_One way or another, I know you have it. So, it’s in good hands. I hope you can return it to me one day._

_I’ve been thinking about your proposal. A lot. And you know, I am working right now but in an on call room, so I can spare a few minutes. Why don’t you call me on this number (*****) the date the letter says at…_

The blonde takes a peek at the time on her cell phone.

_‘9:05 am and—’_

Suddenly, the ring tone invades the room.

Clarke stops in her tracks.

Because... W-T-F.

She’s not moving. 

She just can’t believe what it’s happening. 

I mean, oh, God, this is Lexa we are talking about.

And she’s calling her! 

Her! 

She could hear Lexa’s voice. Finally. After months and months of letters. Which it was, in fact, quite romantic, but also exhausting. 

And _slow_.

She hesitates for one hundred years. Well, more like five seconds. But it feels like one hundred years.

“Hello?” 

Her voice is cracked as fuck and she needs to clear her throat and takes a couple of a deep breath. 

Chill, Griffin. 

The person on the other line takes their sweet time to reply too.

“Hello, Clarke. It’s me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! I really hope you guys enjoyed the chapter. I think these two are getting pretty, pretty close and the first real date might happen very soon. Let me know what your thoughts are about the chapter and which scene you relished the most. 
> 
> Also, I'm curious about knowing if you guys are still watching the 100 or you just gave up a long time ago but follow the show through the social media, as I do. 
> 
> See you next week, folks!


	9. Tucson

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello my Clexa family, here it is a new chapter. I hope you enjoy it. 
> 
> Thanks to underthecovers for proofreading this one.

_Previously on The Lake House..._

She’s calling her! 

She could hear Lexa’s voice. Finally. After months and months of letters. Which it was, in fact, quite romantic, but also exhausting. 

And _slow_.

“Hello?” 

“Hello, Clarke. It’s me.”

* * *

Chapter IX

The neighborhood looked pretty much under construction, but there was a row of houses nicely built already. A large group of workers were gathering around one of those houses.

“Ladies and Gentlemen.”

Her voice sounds strong and commanding.

“Unit 703 on Tondc Estates is complete. Congratulations. You all did a wonderful job.”

There is a big round of applause.

But the Commander wasn’t about to waste any time.

“Ok. Listen up. We’ve got one down. Fifty-six to go. Let’s get back to work, people.”

Everyone goes back to their respective tasks, and they leave Lexa with Indra. Both women stand next to each other sharing a comfortable silence.

“We’re not terrifyingly behind schedule,” Lexa says with a curt nod.

“It’s gonna be okay. Everybody knows their duty, and you’re doing a marvelous job.”

Lexa looks pleased with the kind words. However, after many years, she knows the older woman is about to proceed with a ‘but’ because she’s too much of a perfectionist to find anything done exactly right the first time around.

“Nevertheless,” the older woman continued after a few seconds, “we could use another backhoe and the water on fifteen needs to be released.”

Lexa’s face remains stoic.

“I know, Indra. One step at a time.”

Suddenly a young and attractive woman approaches the construction site. Neither of them can help the groan that escapes from their mouths.

“Here she is again. Heda, you need to take care of that. This is not a place for going around messing and distracting your people.”

But before Lexa can even think of a reply, the businesswoman is shouting out Lexa’s name.

“Lexaaaaaa!!! Lexa, darling! You never call!! I came to see you.”

The young woman approaches her and pitches her voice to a level where the entire block can hear what is meant to be a private conversation.

Lexa softly grabs the woman’s arm and takes her to a more secluded area.

“Hello, Charlotte. Listen, I’m sorry. I’ve been really busy these past months.”

“Well, I’m a little disappointed in you. I thought we had a good thing.” Lexa lifts a brow.

“Charlotte, we went to have dinner—”

“Twice,” Charlotte responds in excitement.

“Yeah. Twice. But I believe I didn’t give you the wrong impression even then. I told I wasn’t interested in continuing whatever that was and—”

Another interruption.

Damn girl, let her talk.

“We could maybe reconnect…” Charlotte says with a sultry voice, shifting closer to the architect and touching her arm up and down.

Okaaay.

Suddenly, Polpetta, who has been sitting next to the couple patiently, starts barking at nothing and without further notice runs away quickly. Despite never wanting a dog, per se, after many months Lexa has grown attached to the fur puppy. She runs and chases after her.

Lexa is so grateful she has been consistent in having a daily workout routine as the puppy has been running non-stop for a few miles. Not at a great speed, but enough to stay persistently out of reach of her owner. Both of them had left the construction site and its neighborhood behind a long time ago.

Just when Lexa goes around the corner, she misses the little dog who’s now long gone. She panics because she can’t imagine her days without the stupid animal. She is now in a pleasant neighborhood, shouting Polpetta’s name hoping to find her.

Just another house and there she is in the front yard; barking and trying to catch what Lexa guesses is its owner's attention. She rushes to the place, not knowing if that person will be kind to animals or not.

She can see now the owner kneels in front of the dog and pets her.

Lexa can't see the woman’s face, just her bright blonde hair. As soon as she is close enough, the woman seems to sense her distress and, without turning around and still petting the dog, says “Yours, I take it?”

“Yes, I’m so, so sorry. Thanks.”

The woman stops petting the dog and turns around.

“Oh, don’t worry. I’m Abby, dear. What’s your name?”

“Oh, I’m Alexandra, ma’am. Please excuse my dog, she never behaves like this. I don’t know what happened.”

She can’t understand what made her use her full name.

Abby waves her hand and goes to the car, picking a bunch of bags from the grocery store.

Lexa rushes to her side.

“Here, let me help you, ma’am.”

“You know what? Give me a hand, I’m having my daughter over tonight and I wanted to buy a few things to make her special lasagna. God knows she literally forgets to eat sometimes.”

Polpetta barks excitedly, jumping around the front yard. Both women laugh at the dog’s behavior.

“I don’t know what has come over her, I swear.”

“Aw, don’t worry. I’m not crazy about dogs, but my daughter, Clarke, loves them. You should have seen how sad she got every single time I refuse to get her one.”

Lexa freezes on the spot.

“Clarke, you said?”

It can’t be.

“Yes. She is in her last year of residence. Do you know her?”

The older woman smiles warmly.

“No. I mean, I don’t think we have met before.”

After a slight pause.

“Well, then maybe you should. You seem very nice and polite."

Lexa gives her a small smile, not sure how to proceed.

“God knows, she’s terrible at picking her own partners. Maybe she will be luckier if I’m the one who picks this time.”

Both women laugh again, yet for a different reason. I mean, yeah, it’s a bit forced on Lexa’s part because she’s literally freaking out but trying to look cool and compose.

“Anyway, I should go, ma’am. It’s been a pleasure to meet you.”

Inner Lexa is jumping around the grass.

She’s into girls.

I mean, she gets the vibe, but she couldn’t be 100% sure.

Now, however, she knows she has a chance.

Yay.

* * *

It’s Friday night, and after a long and tiring shift, nothing sounds better to Clarke than having a drink with her friends.

The blonde has been indulging herself with white wine for the last hour when Raven approaches her.

“According to most accepted social norms, a person should not drink alone, unless they have a good excuse. So, tell me, Doctor Griffin, how come you’re sitting here in the bar by yourself when the rest of us are making embarrassing noises near the pool tables.”

Clarke chuckles at her friend. Raven has become a part of her present-day and she has become attached to the Latina. She was not only a smart and independent woman but also witty and funny. She does really care about her and finds her sense of humor quite refreshing.

“Well, Dr. Reyes. What’s yours?”

“Don’t need one. I just don’t care about social norms. You can do that when you’re a genius.” she then turns her body in search of the barman and graciously inquires, “What I have to do to have my beer refilled?”

“So, are we done with the deflection or are we gonna keep talking about nonsense while you avoid the big elephant in the room?”

Easy, Clarke, you can do this.

“What elephant?”

“Fill me in about your timeless lady, please. I haven’t watched my Telenovela today.”

Straight to the point.

Clarke feels her cheeks flush pink. To distract herself, she passes the hand through wild curls. A tic she does when she feels overwhelmed.

“I don’t know, Raven.”

She exhales a big gulp of air.

“I’m a bit confused about this situation. And I—I don’t know. I think I’m growing too attached to someone I’ve never met.”

“Well, admitting the problem is the first step to recovery. Or…” she stops for emphasis, “the first step to walk into the sunset with your lovely architect. ‘Clexa into the sunset’”

Raven narrows her brown eyes as if she’s imagining the picture, and Clarke can’t help but snort soundly.

“First of all, Clexa? Seriously? What are we, your OTP?”

“Damn right! I bet any channel, or it would hook any producer with your story. Oh! Wait! Imagine what a great brand it could be for the LGTB community. You could have your own con! Like… Clexa Con and—”

“Okaay, let me stop you right there. I really believe you need to stop fantasizing so much. For starters, everybody knows that non-straight relationships don’t really feature in TV or movies. They will probably kill off one of them in the first two seasons. And, as I was saying before you interrupted me: how the hell have you come out with a ship name that fast?”

The Latina woman smiles sheepishly and gulps half of her beer, before answering the question, she signals the waitress to bring another drink and some nachos.

“What do you want me to do? Your story is straight out of a Telenovela! You know how much I love those. And, for once, I think the ship name is quite perfect. Believe me, I’m a visionary. Clexa will become history.”

“Ok, chill there, Michelle Obama, we aren’t becoming anything.”

The blonde hesitates for a bit, wondering whether telling Raven about the last letter is a good idea. She was ninety percent sure it wasn’t, but she really needs to talk about this with literally anyone.

“Listen, in my last letter I kinda suggested getting together and—”

“What! You asked to go on a date, and I am only finding this now!?”

Clarke chews on her bottom lips nervously.

“No. I mean—uh, she suggested before, and I—I wasn’t sure about if she meant a friend date or a date-date.”

“What are you, twelve?”

As in to make a point, Clarke huffs like a small child and covers her face with her hands.

“What am I supposed to do? What if we got together and I went there thinking about a date-date and she meant a friend-date or vice versa! I just wanted to know we are on the same page!”

“Are you on the same page?”

The doctor pinches the bridge of her nose, and after an infinitesimal pause gives her a sad smile.

“I don’t know, Raven. It’s not like I can shoot her a text. I—I wrote back telling her about making a phone call. I mean—future Lexa makes a phone call to me — present Clarke. And for a hot second I thought it had worked because as I was writing the letter, my phone started ringing.”

Raven let out a big gasp and her hand went immediately to the popcorn next to her beer.

This shit was way better than a Telenovela.

“But it turned out it was my stupid ex asking me to have dinner.”

The brunette can’t help the -ooh- writing all over her face.

“And what next!! Damn girl, you make more pauses than Hulu!!”

“Then nothing. I assume she agrees to call me, but she didn’t because of obvious reasons and well, I haven’t told her anything. So maybe she just got cold feet. I don’t know. It’s a bit awkward if you ask me.”

“Step up your game, Griffin. And if you’re not into her like that, well, I’ve seen the looks nurse Nylah gives you. She’s been pining for weeks now.”

Clarke gives the Latina a smile that doesn’t reach her eyes while fidgeting with the glass of wine.

“You know, that’s the story of my life. Keep everything at a distance.” After a slight pause she continues, “everyone. The ones who stand right in front of me, the ones that want me, I push them away. And, in the meantime, the only person I can’t ever meet is the one I could see myself giving my whole heart to.”

Clarke finishes with a dreamy face and a soft sigh.

“Hell, she must write one hell of a letter.”

“Mm-uh. They’re nice. At first, she appears so broody and stoic. Not the soul of the party. But, with time, and many, many letters later, I have been able to see how much of a nerd she is rambling about how majestic creatures the giant squids are.”

As soon as Clarke realizes what she has said, her ears burn with embarrassment and Raven bursts out laughing so hard the entire bar turns to look at the two women.

* * *

Lexa is walking quietly around the crowd of people smiling and looking here and there. She absolutely loves farmers markets. Luckily for her, she had that Tuesday off, so she had the chance to explore for the very first time the local market from this little town. She repeats to herself it has nothing to do with the fact that this is also Abby’s neighborhood.

Nothing.

It sounded a bit stalkerish if she’s been honest, but she couldn’t help it. The young architect has been so curious about it. She knew Abby had a daughter named Clarke, and she was a doctor. She has never had social media, didn’t even know how that works, but she was sure Clarke wasn’t a very common name PLUS a female doctor under thirty with that name.

C’mon!

Lexa could tell you what the odds are.

So, where was the harm in wandering on your free day around the local market of Abby’s–who is possibly Clarke’s mother—neighborhood?

It’s not like the possibilities of finding her are infinite.

Aren’t they?

The enormous bouquet the brunette was carrying–she couldn’t contain herself when she saw the flowers — prevented her from seeing the woman she collided with.

“I’m so, so sorry, ma’am!”

Oh.

“Don't worry dear.”

Oh!! Shit, shit, shit, shittyyyyyy!!

Chill, Lexa. You're smooth. You've got this! 

“You’re the girl with the lovely dog who ran away! Alexandria, wasn’t it?”

It seems possibilities weren’t so minuscule, after all.

“Yes, ma’am.”

Ok, Lexa, don’t be awkward. Relax.

“So, how are you doing, ma’am? Enjoying the local market, I see.”

Laaaame.

“Yes, that’s right. I’ve recently retired from work and before I go on my next adventure, I wanted to have a few weeks off to enjoy some rest and family time; speaking of which,” she looks past Lexa’s shoulder, “there she is.”

Lexa really doesn’t want to turn around because she’s not sure how to react if.

Big if.

But if after all.

“Clarke, sweetie, let me introduce you to Alexandria. She is the lady who ran a few miles after her poor puppy the other day. Remember, I was telling you about the tiny dog that ramped in the house during your birthday party?”

A woman approaches Lexa from behind and stops next to her mother. A blue-eyed woman with porcelain skin. Her hair, Lexa realizes, is hidden under a cute beanie.

"Oh, hi! I told my mom she should have kidnapped your puppy. I have always wanted a dog.”

The young woman shares with a lovely pout.

Lexa is in a trance.

Because this lovely woman in front of her with eyes as deep as the sky and a tiny mole up her lip could be Clarke.

Her Clarke.

I mean, she doesn’t recall 100% about the lady on the train but, I mean, it has to be her. If only she could see the hair.

Who are you fooling, Lexa. This is Clarke.

She clears her throat before thinking up a witty response.

“I’m afraid she is my dog. However, she could become your dog, perhaps in another lifetime.”

Damn, Lexa.

Lame.

Strike two.

Clarke narrows her eyes suspiciously before giggling.

She giggles.

This is Lexa speaking from another solar system. I’m far too gone. Byyyyee.

They are looking at each other with cheesy smiles.

Abby smirks knowingly.

“You know, Clarke, Alexandria has a house on the lake?”

Clarke perks at that.

“Damn, you have a dog and a lake house. You’re living the life I always wanted!”

Lexa smirks at that.

“Perhaps, one day you—”

“Oh, ladies, excuse me for a second, I just saw something I wanted to buy. Be right back”

Abby shouts as she practically runs to one of the stands.

See? Another fan of the Clexa ship.

“So…”

Lexa is so nervous she doesn’t even remember what she was about to say. I mean, it was a quite remarkable statement, but with Abby’s interruption, her intelligence went through the window.

It amuses Clarke watching the brunette act nervously like a teenager.

Super gay rainbows.

“Uhhh—”

Geez.

It hurts.

Clarke’s mouth quirks slightly in amusement, but she puts Lexa out of her misery by having what seems a normal and adult conversation.

“So, are you a real estate agent or something?”

“No, I just live by the lake. But if I see something around the neighborhood, your mom told me you would be interested. I get it. It is a beautiful area. Have you ever been over there before?”

“Oh, well, not specifically the same lake where your house is, I assume; but when I was small my parents used to rent a cabin in the Lake Mulwala, near DC where I grew up. I have so many fond memories from that time, and I guess—I don’t know. It felt so quiet and nice.”

Clarke isn’t sure why she’s sharing these personal memories with a practical stranger. Lexa seems so nice and easygoing. Which is strange because she’s normally very easygoing with strangers, she is a social person. However, she tends to keep these strangers at arm’s length. Especially with childhood memories.

Lexa doesn’t ask questions, such as when did she move from DC or anything to that effect. She just stands in front of Clarke, giving her a small smile.

“So, your mom told me you were a doctor.”

The blonde beams with pride.

“Yep. I’m in my last year of residence. So, luckily, in one year from now, I’ll be a badass attending surgeon.”

Now it’s Lexa’s turn to beam with pride.

“Yeah, I’m sure you will.”

Both girls stay there for a second in comfortable silence.

Forest green piercing sky blue ones.

“Do you—”

“I wo—”

They talk at the same time.

Then blue-eyes signals the brunette to start first.

“I—I think I should go.”

Green says avowing, looking at Clarke.

“It’s been a pleasure, but I should go.”

Clarke masks her disappointment quickly.

“Yeah, same. Nice to meet you.”

And with that, the young architect leaves the market, with a bouquet and a heart furiously thumping on her chest. 

* * *

“So, what are you going to do?” Raven inquires while devouring some nachos with guacamole and her third beer. “Are you willing to give your architect a chance to meet you? I mean, she’s a catch, according to you, she has a dog and a house on the lake. It’s like your dream—”

Clarke froze on the spot with Raven’s words. 

* * *

_‘October 21st, 2018._

_Dear Lexa,_

_It was you._

_I can’t believe it!_

_The other day I was having a drink with Raven and suddenly she said something about having a dog and a lake house and I’m not entirely sure, but I remembered those exact words from a random conversation I had two years ago at the farmer’s market._

_Why didn’t you say anything?!_

_Yours,_

_C. xx.’_

* * *

_‘October 27th, 2016._

_Dear Clarke,_

_You would’ve thought I was crazy!’_

* * *

_‘Well, yeah. Of course! But… I liked you. I mean, I think we sort of clicked. Didn’t we?!_

_You should have said something.’_

* * *

_‘Something along the lines: Hello Clarke, I came from your future._

_You were walking around the farmer’s market with your mom, for God’s sake._

_Would you have believed some kind of Doctor Who twist?’_

* * *

_‘You know what? Excuses, Lexa. I think you’re a bit of a coward.’_

* * *

_‘Am not!’_

* * *

_‘Oh! Really? What about the date call?’_

* * *

_‘Clarke, I have already told you. You can’t get mad at me because my future me–for a strange reason I don’t yet understand—didn’t call you! And just so you know, this is very confusing!’_

* * *

_‘What’s that, Lex? A joke? We have a comedian! What did you have? A clown for breakfast? Are you part of the Clownkru?’_

* * *

_‘WONDERFUL! Our first fight.’_

* * *

_‘You could write a song about it and go sing it to death in Tucson.’_

* * *

_‘What?! I told you that in confidence! It was a ONE-time thing and only because Anya got me terribly drunk. And for the record, it wasn’t in Tucson, it was in Meridian, Idaho!’_

* * *

_‘I know! I was just trying to quote the Chainsmokers! Because they were playing Blink-182 on their way to Tucson!’_

* * *

_‘What?!’_

* * *

_‘What?!’_

* * *

“Just great, our first misunderstanding, I can’t understand what she’s talking about!”

An exasperated Lexa says to no one in particular while putting some flowers that she got from the market in a vase with some water.

Yes, she kinda’ buys flowers every week.

Polpetta looks at her and tilts her head almost pityingly.

“Don’t look at me like that” she now turns to the dog, “I know you’ll end up being pudding in her hands! Little traitor!”

A tiny whine comes from the canine.

Lexa’s bickering is interrupted when the phone rings.

“Hello,” she answers quite abruptly. “Yes. Yes, I am. What?! What hospital?!” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know you guys might have a bittersweet feeling after the chapter. I'm a bit mean and did want them to stick with the letters instead of phone calls. For now. On the other hand, I indeed gave you something in return when the market scene took place. They met each other! Just don't get upset with Lexa, we must remember she is a useless lesbian when it comes to Clarke. I think it was sweet. 
> 
> Also, big flip with the last episodes from The 100. What are your thoughts about it! 
> 
> Please let me know what you think about the chapter. Your fav scene or if you were expecting something different.
> 
> Comments, kudos and glasses of wine are always appreciated. 
> 
> See you next week.


	10. In the dark

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one is a bit sad. 
> 
> Many thanks to [underthecovers](https://archiveofourown.org/users/underthecovers/pseuds/underthecovers) for proofreading the chapter.

Previously on The Lake House...

“Just great, our first misunderstanding, I can’t understand what she’s talking about!”

Polpetta looks at her and tilts her head almost pityingly.

“Don’t look at me like that” she now turns to the dog, “I know you’ll end up being pudding in her hands! Little traitor!”

Lexa’s bickering is interrupted when the phone rings.

“Hello,” she answers quite abruptly. “Yes. Yes, I am. What?! What hospital?!” 

* * *

Chapter X

Lexa is running for dear life as she makes her way to the hospital. That’s why when she bursts inside the ER towards the front desk, she doesn’t feel bad about the nurse who gives her a stern look. 

“Hi. Good afternoon. I’m looking for my father. I don’t know which room he’s in,” she rushes, barely breathing between words. Then snaps and realizes she didn’t even give a name.

“Uh—Augustus Woods?” 

The nurse doesn’t bother looking up and continues to stare at her computer. Lazily typing, even when she can sense the distress in Lexa. Finally, after a few more seconds, she chants in a monotone and bored voice. 

“Mr Woods, the architect?”

Yes! Lexa wants to scream. 

“Yes, ma’am.” 

The nurse starts typing slowly and Lexa has to stand there trying her best not to lose her patience when suddenly a female voice approaches her from behind.

“Hello, I’m Dr Reyes. I’m the attending physician for your father.” 

Lexa sees a beautiful Latina introduce herself and she can’t help but think how young the woman looks to be the attending physician.

She must be a genius or something. 

“Hello, a pleasure doctor. What happened? How is he?” 

The young doctor signs her to follow her while explaining a bit of the situation.

“He’s okay. He’s had a heart attack. Luckily for us, relatively minor, so his vitals are fine and he’s stable. However, it will require an intervention. He’s agreed to schedule it for tomorrow afternoon.” 

Lexa sighs with relief and gives the doctor a small smile. 

After that, she enters the room where her father is. The room is enormous, bright with sunlight spilling through large windows. It has a wide space that acts as an open living room with a comfortable sofa and TV, a private bathroom and then the room where Gustus lies. Surely a room far above the average standards. But that’s what you get when your last name owns one of the better firms in the country. 

Lexa finds her father sketching. 

“Good to see you’re taking it easy.” 

She can’t help sounding a bit petty. 

“Well, Alexandria. You didn’t need to come. As you can see, I’m perfectly well.” 

The woman can’t help the small scowl that spreads across her brow. 

“You had a heart attack.”

“I had a minor episode,” he corrects as he keeps drawing precise lines without giving even a brief glance to his daughter.

The silence between them is tense.

It happens sometimes when you lose contact with somebody so close to you. Father and daughter have saved the frustration from years and years of silence until the point where they have forgotten how to communicate with each other.

Their eyes scream at how they are trying to rebuild the bridge. Although in reality that bridge is still demolished with all the things unsaid between them. 

“I’m here if you need anything, though,” she says as she turns around to leave. 

“Coffee.” 

“What?”

“You heard me. Coffee.” 

Not a single moment in their brief conversation has Gustus stopped drawing. 

But coffee was a start. 

* * *

_‘November 26th, 2015_

_Dear Clarke,_

_I hope you’re not still mad at me for our little bickering in the last letters. I really miss you, Clarke. I miss our conversations. And I miss the bubbles I feel every time I see a letter from you inside my mailbox. I’ve had a rough week. I can’t help but think how it calms me talking to you. I’m going to tell you a story._

_After long conversations about how both of us love the lake house, there’s something I never told you. It was my father who built the house. I mean, he not only designed it but also built it with his own hands._

_It was a long time ago, long before he became famous. At least, not as famous as he is nowadays. When he still had time for his family. I’ve never seen two people more in love than my parents. You know? He used to worship my mother so much. Her name was Madison, and this house was a gift for her._

_She could have done anything but chose to take care of my sister and I and helped my father build his career. But, you see, the most successful he became, the more impossible he was to live with. Long weekends with the family became lonely days with my sister and an increasingly sad and depressed mother. One day she left, although she never learned how to stop loving him. Within a year, she got sick and there was nothing we could do. I was fifteen. He wasn’t at the funeral. When I asked him why, he said: she was dead to me the moment she stepped out of the house._

_After that, our relationship became completely detached. He became our mentor, more than our father. He taught my sister and I everything we know about architecture and discipline, and that’s pretty much it._

Clarke has teary eyes reading the heartbreaking story Lexa is telling her. She knew the woman was quite stoic and serious, but she didn’t have a clue why or how she’d become something like that. How true it is that you need to walk in somebody’s shoes for a day to understand that person. 

_‘Worse part of the story is, I almost forgot everything my mother taught me. I mean, the important things. Like spending the day with the family, enjoying the sun and a home-cooked meal or how comforting a hug or a kiss on the forehead can be._

_Until the day she came. I know I’ve told you a few times about Costia, but believe me when I say there’s no way you can understand how important she was for me. She brought me back to life and she taught me again all the small things that matter. But I was foolish and young and wanted to please my father and his stupid ego._

_I became just like him._

_And, once again, she walked away. Like father, like daughter, isn’t it?_

_She had an accident the night she left._

_I don’t think I can forgive myself for what happened; and since then, I haven’t forgiven my father either. Yet, the picture hasn’t improved for me._

_I’ve made peace with my struggle. But seeing my father again is messing with my wellbeing. More so than usual. I don’t want to be like him. Again. I cannot. After I walked away from him I learned how to survive and I’m afraid coming back will bring the part of me I despise so much._

_I’m going through a rough time, to be honest, my father is at the hospital. Nothing serious, they said, but I don’t know. I’m spending more time with him and I’m feeling a bit conflicted._

_I am not sure if I’m overstepping with this letter. I know our letters have become more personal, but, well, this is difficult for me._

_Anyway, now you know the whole story. I know you have to wonder for a while why I left Chicago for a few years. I guess telling you about the lake house somehow forces me to share the rest of the story. The least bit of it._

_Happy Thanksgiving, Clarke._

_Yours,_

_Lexa.’_

Clarke finishes the letter with tears in her eyes. She had felt through the words the pain Lexa felt and is still feeling. She tries to imagine a little Lexa wandering and running around the dock playing with her sister and her mother. It was devastating seeing how good people could get lost along the way. But, again, working in a hospital, what’s a better place than this one to see that happen. 

She wonders if Lexa has given up or if she is still believing there’s someone out there for her. 

She just truly hopes is the latter one. 

* * *

Lexa walks dutifully along the corridors of the hospital with two cups of coffee. After the visit to her father last week, she learned not to come back without a cup of the bitter drink. For her sake. Gustus’s operation went well, and she is grateful for that. 

“Just so you know I had to sneak past three nurses and your doctor to bring you this,” she says as she places the steamy cup on the table next to the bed. 

“It’s hot,” he says as he grabs it. “It’s not decaf, is it?”

“It should be but isn’t.” 

He hums as if agreeing and turns to Lexa.

“Thank you. Where’s your sister?” 

“I sent her away. She wasn’t feeling well. She doesn’t like hospitals and she worries.” 

Gustus scoffed and shook his head.

“Yeah. I know. She gets that from your mother, I’m afraid.”

Lexa’s breath hitches and she immediately stiffens her shoulders.

“She always worried too much.” 

Lexa really doesn’t want to argue with her father, so she makes a wild turn with the conversation. She doesn’t know for how long she would accept listening to her father talking about her mother. 

“What is this?” 

She grabs the magazine from the table. 

“It’s a proposal for a museum.” 

Lexa studies the pictures and designs for a minute. 

“Oh, I like the walkaways, where the light falls.” 

Narrowed green eyes. Little frown in concentration. Small pink tongue out. 

Adorable. 

“What are the materials?” 

“Granite. Aluminium.” 

Both of the Woods have a tiny and almost imperceptible smirk on their face as they can hear younger Anya going over and over saying ‘granite has so many possibilities.’

Don’t ask. 

It was one of Anya’s phases. 

“White panels are straight out of Meier, but the interior color comes through the front windows, that’s different.” And then she adds after a beat, “it’s not new, but it’s clean. Uncluttered. I like it."

Gustus gives her a nod. Not the kind of parent response nod, more like your boss is happy with your work nod. 

“When was the last time you were in Granada?” 

“With you, mom and Anya.”

It was one of the last trips they made as a family before everything went to hell. Gustus had won a prestigious award, and they were giving it to him in Spain.

Her mother had thought it would be a wonderful opportunity to spend a few days together as a family. Sadly, the quick trip turned out with Lexa, Anya and her mom wandering around the city most of the time while Gustus was busy doing business. 

“Do you remember visiting the Alhambra?” 

The brunette closes her eyes trying to picture the image of a tiny green-eyed brunette and a slightly taller dirty blonde running around the Generalife, also known as the ‘Garden of the Architect.’ 

She gives her father a half-smile. The first one in more than a decade.

“It drinks the same light.” 

“Remember, Casa de la Caritat in Barcelona, Alexandria?” 

And the brunette knows why Gustus gives her that example. 

“Mm-hm. Meier.”

“Remember to capture the light. But do it right. Because although light enhances art, it can also degrade it. But you know that already. Now, this… where do you suppose this is to be built?”

He points to the magazine design but the brunette shrugs nonchalantly. 

“I have no idea.”

“But you said you liked it” Gustus inquires without missing a beat. 

“Conceptually.” 

Although he hasn’t spent too many times parenting, he really knows architect Lexa. So, he does what he always does to push her to be better. 

“You know as well as I do that the light in Florence differs greatly from the light in Vancouver. And the light in Vancouver is different from that in Prague.” 

He is challenging her. 

“A truly great structure, one that is meant to stand the tests of time, _never_ disregards its environment.”

Lexa knows it and so does he. But it doesn’t matter because he keeps talking like in a trance. 

Like this is another lesson Lexa must endure. 

“He knows that if he wants presence, he must consult with nature. The people need to be captivated by the light, Alexandria! Always the light. Always!” 

After that, they get into a comfortable silence until he falls asleep.

Lexa stays for a while, sitting on the couch next to the bed, thinking about what her father said. She knew her father didn’t know how to be a father.

This happens sometimes. People become parents and they don’t know how to be one. Gustus took every possible lesson about life to a field he was more comfortable and confident. It was the only way he knew. 

And somehow Lexa wishes it could have been enough. 

She remembers the last time she felt so captivated by the light she couldn’t even breath. 

It was in Lisbon. 

Seven years ago, she took a small trip with Costia to Portugal. She’s been several times to Spain but hasn’t had the chance to visit its neighbor. They visited Lisbon, Porto and Sintra. It was a three day’s trip. They didn’t have much time since she needed to come back to the firm.

A shame, actually. She had fallen in love with Portugal. Its art. Its food. And its people. Warm and welcoming people. 

After a ridiculously long day in Lisbon, Lexa had been exhausted. Costia had dragged her from Praça do Comércio to Belém Tower and Jerónimos Monastery. At the end of the day, they ended up at Lisbon’s cathedral. Well, the former cathedral. An earthquake in the 18th Century has destroyed the grand part of the church, but you could still visit it and see part of its structure.

They entered and sat on the stairs on one side to enjoy the view. 

And then she saw it.

The light. The pure light that enhanced the art.

And inner peace. 

Those were the memories Lexa was deeply immersed in when a nurse came to check on her father, and she decided it was for the best to call it a day. 

Perhaps she could be able to forgive her father, after all.

* * *

It’s not that Clarke was noisy. It’s just that, after reading the brunette’s letter, she grows curious about her father. A quick, and very much illegal, look at the medical records of the hospital, she finds out what happened with Gustus. 

When she sees it, she runs to the desk and asks one of her colleagues to take on her shift for the rest of the day and then she runs to her car. 

* * *

Lexa is on her way home after a long day at work. Her father is due to go home today but she knew Anya was the one picking him up. She’s almost on her property when she receives a phone call. She debates with herself about stopping the car and answering the phone or whether to leave it but in the end, she decides to stop. 

“Hello?”

“Mrs. Woods. This is Dr. Reyes from Chicago Memorial. I’m afraid I have some difficult news for you.” 

Nobody said finding the perfect light would be easy. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We get to see more about Lexa's relationship with her father and understand its complexity, something that hit close to home for me. It is not my intention to make Gustus a bad father figure. I believe every person is how it is and being a parent is extremely hard. Not everyone knows how to do it. Lexa needs to make peace with learning how to love her father just the way he is and not, perhaps, the way he's "supposed to be". 
> 
> Can you relate to this type of relationship? Let me know what you think about the chapter. Don't hesitate to drop some comments, kudos or snacks.


	11. Lexa

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to the one and only [underthecovers](https://archiveofourown.org/users/underthecovers/pseuds/underthecovers) who took the time to proofread the chapter.

Previously on The Lake House...

Lexa is on her way home after a long day at work. Her father is due to go home today but she knew Anya was the one picking him up. She’s almost on her property when she receives a phone call. She debates with herself about stopping the car and answering the phone or whether to leave it but in the end, she decides to stop. 

“Hello?”

“Mrs. Woods. This is Dr. Reyes from Chicago Memorial. I’m afraid I have some difficult news for you.” 

Nobody said finding the perfect light would be easy. 

* * *

Chapter XI

Clarke is driving to the lake house. She’s still wearing her scrubs and looks very much like death warmed up after interrupting her 24-hour shift, but she needs to rush to the house.

She needs to talk to her.

She needs to be _here_ for her.

When she arrives, she quickly stops the car and starts to write frantically on her notepad.

_‘December 4th, 2017._

_I’m so, so sorry, Lex._

_I wish somehow, I could be there with you._

_I wish we could sit together in the front of the fireplace and just… look out over the water._

_I wish we could share a glass of wine and stay in silence while contemplating the light in the house. The house your father built._

_I’m normally not that cheesy, but today I can say out loud that I’m craving so, so much just being with you and to tell you that everything is going to be okay._

_Everything will be alright, babe._

_I’m not sure if they allow this in our letters through the time barrier._

_What I do know is that if I can do one thing for you today, even without you by my side, I’m doing it. I want to believe that this simple thing from the future will give you the courage and the love you need to go through this right now._

_This book I am gifting you won’t be published until 2018. Actually, I didn’t connect the dots. For some strange reason, it didn’t hit me that the famous owner of Woods & Woods would be your father. Don’t even ask me why. I know you told me that your father is a famous architect, I just… I’m a little mess._

_Anyway, here is his official biography. From what I read, he barely finished before everything… happened. Everything was ready, but he wanted to publish it in two years from that date. I haven’t figured out why. I suppose 2018 meant something important to him. I don’t think you should have to wait that long to read it. I truly hope it helps to know how much you were, even in his own and rare way, loved._

_I’m here for whatever you need._

_Please, talk to me._

_All my love, C.’_

Lexa finishes reading the sweet letter in front of the mailbox, unable to even wait until she is tucked back in the safety of the house. The winter seems specifically harsh today, but despite the bitter cold, there’s no wind and the sun allows her to venture outside for a few brief moments.

Besides the letter, there is a book. Its hardcover is completely white. Clean. With the name Gustus Woods in a neat theme font in black. Just above the name is written: ‘ _Life Works_ ’.

The brunette weighs the book in her hands and she feels something stir inside of her.

Once inside, she mentally prepares herself to open the book. It is a biography based on his works, drawings, designs and some pictures.

Everything printed in black and white.

Neat and elegant.

Just like Gustus would have loved.

She prepares herself with a cup of tea and sits in the loveseat in front of the east window, the sun is almost gone for the day and the combination of light, water and trees creates an atmosphere of perfect harmony. The optical effect is magnificent. Just what her father was looking for when he picked this location, she assumes.

Lexa takes a peek at the book, flipping its pages recognizing some of the drawings and pictures when she stops in her tracks and sees one particular picture.

The image shows a caption of the lake house from its front. A younger Gustus stood with a little Lexa safety tucked in his arms next to the mailbox. Both perhaps contemplating the lake house while someone behind them, her mother, Lexa believes, takes the picture.

The version of toddler Lexa is adorable.

She is trying to reach with one hand the flag of the mailbox while with the other one she grabs her dad’s shoulders as if to stabilize herself. Gustus is, even from behind, glancing shiftily to the camera with only part of his head turned. He has a small but quite fond smile on his face, directed at tiny Lexa.

Lexa breathes out shakily when she sees the picture and shakes her head in disbelief.

Lexa has known of her mother’s love for photography, but she had been quite sure Gustus kept nothing of her mother’s when she left. Seeing this picture is probably the most important piece from her father, and it brings up so many feelings. They are fast and so unbearably hard; she loses her breath for a moment.

She swallows hard.

She focuses on the picture again and zooms in on her father's face. She tries to remember what her father was trying to tell her at that moment, but she can’t remember it. So, she concentrates on how Gustus’s powerful arms are holding her. She was quite skinny and small when she was a child.

Her eyes are full of unshed tears when her gaze moves to the caption below the picture.

_**Gustus Woods with his daughter Lexa at their lake house.** _

_Lexa_.

Only her mother and sister call her that. It started because Anya couldn’t pronounce Alexandria correctly, so, since she was a child, she has always been Lexa.

But not for her father. For him, it has always been Alexandria or even Woods.

The brunette reaches the point where she can’t hold it any longer.

The whole situation has been too much for her.

But seeing this tiny and stupid, and completely trivial yet significant detail…

It _breaks_ her.

She gasps for air and just when she believes she is about to pass out; she breaks with a huge sob.

And that’s all it takes to start crying.

Crying for her father. For her mother. Crying for Costia. For herself.

Crying for all the little things they never said.

Crying because, indeed, accurate lighting can change _everything_.

* * *

Lexa has been in radio silence during the last few weeks and Clarke was barely holding it together to not go insane.

She knows losing a parent can be a big deal, and despite Lexa and her father not having a healthy relationship, it doesn’t mean the brunette isn’t feeling the loss of her parent.

It pains the blonde knowing how hard it has been for Lexa to come back and pick up her relationship with Gustus. The last letter she received from the brunette has been heartbreaking; and Clarke could only hope that Lexa didn’t feel that it is her fault for the lost time she took away from her father to heal.

That it has been two weeks since the small reply she got from the brunette with a plain ‘thank you’ unsettles her.

She misses Lexa.

A lot.

And it shouldn’t be normal or logical. For God sakes. She didn’t even know her in person. I mean, yes, she has, but it was a brief moment in a local market without knowing she knew her.

If she’s been honest with herself, she has thought about that moment at the market many times throughout the following weeks. She had felt drawn to the brunette in that moment.

Something about the tall and broody woman felt just _right_.

She is a bit upset with Lexa about the whole situation since, well, she could have asked for her number or something. They would have stood a chance of getting to know each other.

Really getting to know each other.

Not through stupid letters that make her go to the lake house every few days hoping, like a damn idiot, to find the red flag up.

She knew the architect didn’t want to waste her time, but it doesn’t matter how many times she comes back to check the mailbox: nada. She can’t help feeling sad and a little silly.

And if Lexa had asked for the phone when they met at the market, none of this would be happening.

“Uhhh, yes, it would.”

Two years ago on that day, Clarke had been moving on from her last relationship. It’s not that she went nun for years, but she wants to believe it was not the right time to get to know Lexa. Maybe they would have eventually become friends. Or lovers. Or maybe not.

Who knows?

A part of her is relieved, however, that Lexa didn’t make a move that day. Instead, she became the incredible and sexy brunette from the local market with a weird obsession with flowers, and a dog who runs away from her.

She was lost in her thoughts when the phone interrupted her.

“Hello” She replies without looking to see who it is.

“Hey, Gryffindor. It’s Ravenclaw.”

“Do you know, I’m actually a Slytherin?” the blonde sasses back.

“Damn! Now I like you even more. Listen, I’m calling you to invite you to the best party ever.”

“Who’s this party with?”

“A friend of a friend. Actually, I don’t even know the guy, BUT I found out that the broody chick from the gym a.k.a. the future mother of my children will be there. I can’t lose this chance. So, I need a wing woman. I mean, I don’t. Because I can woo whoever I want with my pickup lines, but it would be nice if I don’t show up at this Christmas party all by myself.”

The brunette rambles nervously and Clarke can’t help but crack a small smile.

Well, well, well. It seems a random woman can fluster the great Raven Reyes.

That would be fun to see.

“Ok. count me in. Are you stopping at mine to have a drink first?”

“I like the way to think, Clarkeypoo.”

The blonde huffs at the nickname and hangs up the phone without a goodbye. 

* * *

It’s Christmas Eve and Lexa is sitting in the living room looking at the lake and how the sun goes for the last few hours. Despite being relatively close to the fireplace, she is wearing warm clothes, black sweatpants and a green cardigan. Her brown mane is somewhat tamed with a lazy bun.

Polpetta is next to her, on her back with four legs sticking up in random directions, and half her tongue hanging out. The brunette could hear the light snoring. Clarke was right. The damn puppy sleeps like a human.

Today she received another letter—a Christmas card, actually, from Clarke. She feels terrible that she has been ignoring her for the last few weeks, but she knows the doctor understands the needs of this time.

She reads it again.

_‘December 24th, 2018._

_Dear Lexa, I just wanted to wish a very happy Christmas._

_I don’t know if this is the best moment to tell you about this, but I just wanted to let you know that I know what its like to lose a parent. I know the pain. And I—I just don’t want you to feel as lost as I felt in the moment. I wanted to assure you that I’m here with you. I will always be here with you. And, whenever you are ready to talk, I’ll be here._

_Merry Christmas._

_All my love, C.’_

Lexa has her spiral sketchbook next to her.

She’s been looking forward to a quiet afternoon spread out on the sofa and sketching, but she can’t find inspiration. The only thing going on in her mind was the cheerful blonde from the last month at the local market, and the sweet and caring blonde from the letters.

From time to time the brunette glances at the sketchbook, and then she immediately scrunches her nose and moves her eyes back to the lake.

Finally, she takes a leap of faith. 

* * *

It’s January 1st when the blonde comes back to the house.

The week has been hectic, and she hasn’t had a day off. Everybody knew taking holidays during the Christmas season was pretty much a miracle, so Clarke knew, as a newbie at the hospital, that she wouldn’t enjoy a day off.

On top of that, the day after Christmas Day, a big storm has hit the northeast of Illinois and it’s been impossible at the ER.

What she isn’t saying is that after the entire month of December without a word from Lexa, she is feeling a bit afraid that the brunette has left.

The lake house looks beautiful all covered in snow along the frozen lake.

Her stupid heart flips uncontrollably when she sees the red flag up as she approaches it.

Inside there’s a simple piece of paper folded several times. Once she opens it, she realizes this is not from the same type of notebook the brunette has used before. This is a large landscape sketchbook. Despite the name, the size itself is surprisingly small, barely 5.5” x 8.25”. However, the texture proves to be of an excellent quality paper. And then it hits her. This has to be the sketchbook Lexa uses for her drawings.

There’s no letter, name, address or big speech this time. Just like the last time when the brunette just said ‘thank you’, only this time the blonde could read.

_‘I want to meet you for real this time!’_

Cerulean eyes light up as she holds tightly the paper against her chest. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know down below if you enjoyed the chapter and if your heart broke with little Lexa. 
> 
> By the way, what do you guys think of the series finale? I'm happy ADC came back so our Clexa family got the chance to see Lexa one more time. It was nice, despite, well, everything else. 
> 
> Don't forget to take a look at my other Clexa Movies AU:
> 
> [Wedding Crashers](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21270506/chapters/50643110) and [Notting Hill](https://archiveofourown.org/works/19434865/chapters/46253476)


	12. Enchanted to meet you

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again. First of all, I want to thank you for all the lovely comments from the last chapter. 
> 
> I hope you enjoy this one.

Previously on The Lake House...

There’s no letter, name, address or big speech this time. Just like the last time when the brunette just said ‘thank you’, only this time the blonde could read.

_‘I want to meet you for real this time!’_

Cerulean eyes light up as she holds tightly the paper against her chest. 

* * *

Chapter XII

It only takes Clarke a few days to come back to the house and leave her answer. 

‘ _January 3rd, 2019._

_Dear Lexa,_

_First of all, Happy New Year! I hope you made time during the holidays to be with your sister. I’m sure you guys had a blast!_

_I was a bit worried about you; I came to the house a couple of times to see if there was any mail, but I guess you needed your time alone. I just, I keep wishing I could have been there for you. You know? Also, I was a bit afraid as part of me couldn’t stop thinking that you might have left without saying goodbye. I know you wouldn’t do something like that, but I also know some experiences can mess with your head sometimes. It happened to me._

_You know I would love to go out with you. It’s just—you know it won’t be anywhere near soon for you, right? Even if we pick a date within a week for me, it will be two more years for you. I can practically hear you sassing me back ‘I know, I don’t care to wait, Clarke.’_

_I just want you to be sure._

_Pick a day._

_PS: What did you do for Christmas?_

_Yours,_

_C.’_

* * *

Lexa was way too behind her schedule at work. She knew she shouldn’t have taken that much time off last month, but honestly, she couldn’t care less. She needed that time to put her thoughts in order and to accept some major changes in her life. 

Old Lexa would have refused to do that, but she wasn’t that person anymore. 

Her day went from zero to hero (chill Hercules) when she arrived home and saw on her mailbox a reply from her favorite blonde. 

Lexa is beaming, jumping and moving her arms from one side to the other. 

Clarke has accepted to go on a date with her. 

Her day has dramatically improved. 

She couldn’t wait any longer to reply to the blonde. She was so nervous. It’s not like she doesn’t have game. Well, just a bit. She normally doesn’t get nervous when talking to pretty girls. However, this is Clarke we are talking about. She’s going to be shitting her pants. 

Clarke is special. 

This bond they have built during the last year is special. 

She hasn’t felt this way with anyone. Not even with Costia. Just when she thought she wouldn’t find love again; Clarke disrupts her life. 

Clarke who’s funny, sweet and caring. 

Clarke who’s half a dork and half of a nerd. 

And let’s just not forget, sassy Clarke. 

_‘January 4th, 2017_

_Dear Clarke,_

_I’m happy to see you already know me well enough to know that I don’t care to wait._

_I think we have something special going on here. Well, I don’t think so. I know so._

_You’re worth the wait._

_We’re worth it._

_I’ve never been so sure of something in my life._

_What do you think of the last Saturday of January?_

_Just tell me where you want to go, and I’ll make a reservation._

_My Christmas was very quiet. I spent both days, Christmas Day and New Year’s Eve, with my sister and a couple of friends. It was fine. Anya and I talked. A lot. And in some ways, we made peace with our present. I didn’t show her my father’s biography. I don’t know why, Clarke. I’m not sure if I’m ready to share the memory or it’s just my way of protecting her. Or maybe both._

_On a lighter note, Santa brought a few toys for Polpetta and a new bed even though she keeps jumping to my bed every night. Anya bought her one of those onesies for dogs matching with an adult version for me. I don’t know what to think about it, but It’s been freezing cold and well, we both look fancy in our raccoons’ onesies. Sue me._

_P.S. Here, I have included a picture of us so you can confirm it._

_Yours,_

_Lexa.’_

* * *

Clarke looks at the picture like a lovesick puppy and thanks God she is by herself at home or someone would have noticed her cheeks reddening. Flushed with something as her eyes pore over the image in her hand. 

She feels so much better after reading Lexa’s letter and knowing that the brunette is doing better. The blonde bites nervously on her lower lip while focusing on the picture where a very stunning brunette is holding a small version of her dog in front of the fireplace. They look so adorable her heart is flipping like the idiot she is.

She passes her fingertips over the image and smiles fondly. If her eyes linger a bit longer on the full and pink lips of the architect, this she will deny until her death. 

She can’t wait to be with her. 

_‘January 8th, 2019._

_Dear Lexa,_

_Just so you know, I’m framing this picture. You look so cute! I’ve shown the picture to Polpetta too, she avoids looking me in the eyes, so I guess she must be at least a bit ashamed of her past as a cute racoon._

_Regarding our date. I’m 100% in._

_I can’t wait to meet you too. Again. You know what I mean._

_I think the date is perfect. Tomorrow I’ll make extra sure I have the day off at work._

_You know, I’ve always wanted to go to Mare Nostrum. It’s a very nice restaurant here in downtown Chicago, that specializes in Mediterranean food. I’ve tried twice, but it seems they have the longest waiting list. So, since you’re the one making the reservation, perhaps two years and two weeks is time enough to book a table there. I’m sure you’ll love it. It’s fancy, but nothing outrageous._

_Let me know what you think. If you’re not comfortable there, we can try another place._

_I’m so excited!_

_Yours,_

_C.’_

Lexa doesn’t even need to think twice, and the following day after work she goes to Chicago to find the restaurant Clarke is hoping to have dinner at. 

That’s how she finds herself in front of the hostess. A young and sweet girl with a tag name that reads Fox. 

“Welcome to Mare Nostrum, ma’am. When were you hoping to dine with us?” 

Ok. This is going to sound a bit weird. 

“Two years from the last Saturday of January.” 

Okaay. 

Lexa can feel her cheeks flush pink at the expression of WTF that Fox is giving her. In any other situation, she would be politely laughing with the guest at the joke, but the brunette in front of her remains stoic and she seems sincere. 

“Two years from the last Saturday of this month, ma’am?” 

The woman needs reassurance, hoping she just misheard the woman in front of her.

“That’s correct. Two years from the last Saturday of this month.” 

One more time.

“In two years as in 2019?” 

“Correct.”

“Can I have your name, ma’am?” 

“Woods.” 

After she scribes something on the notepad, the woman smiles politely to the brunette. 

“Ok, ma’am. I think we should be able to accommodate you,” she says with a hint of amusement. 

* * *

The restaurant is in full swing, like almost every day and especially during the weekends. Even after four years open, Mare Nostrum remains one of the best places to enjoy a meal in the city and it’s almost impossible to get a table without waiting for the six months list. 

Clarke, however, doesn’t have to worry over the wait.

“Good evening, ma’am. Name?” 

She is greeted once inside the restaurant while her coat is taken. 

The blonde hesitates for a moment. 

“Uh—Griffin.” 

There’s a tense silence. 

“Uh—actually, I’m not really sure. It might be under Woods, perhaps.” 

“Woods. Yes. Here it is. Please, your waiter will be right with you.” 

And after that, they usher her to a nice table next to the window. Clarke glances around and thanks to the gods of every single religion that she listened to Raven when she picked the outfit. The restaurant is fancy. Not so small and definitely cozy, but the surrounding people are wearing nice clothes.

The blonde opted – ok, Raven opted— for a simple yet elegant navy dress that reaches above her knees. The front of it shows a bit of cleavage. Enough to catch some further glances, but still discrete. She completed the look with black high heels and a small clutch she borrowed from Octavia. Her hair is down and her makeup very minimal. Enough to hide the tiredness from her work at the hospital and to accentuate her beautiful features. 

She is quite proud of the result. According to Raven, Lexa doesn’t stand a chance. 

“Good evening, miss.” 

The waitress acknowledges as she serves her a glass of water and a glass of champagne. 

Thirty minutes after the hour they agreed to meet, the waitress approaches her once more. 

“Miss, another glass for the lady?” 

The blonde agreed. 

She’s starting to feel a bit uncomfortable. The people around her are giving her glances every once in a while, with a look of pity in their eyes. 

It’s clear to everyone, even for Clarke, what the situation looks like. 

After an hour, the blonde pays the check and gets up. Even though she keeps her chin high enough in order to not show signs of sadness or embarrassment. Deep inside she can’t wait to get home and let the tears come out. 

So, she leaves the restaurant with the little dignity she has left. 

She never thought her heart could be as broken as it is right now. 

* * *

_‘February 2nd, 2019._

_You weren’t there._

_You didn’t come.’_

Lexa can’t believe what she is reading. 

It’s not possible. 

She knows it’s just not possible. 

Please, God, don’t let this be possible. 

The letter is pretty much three lines. There’s no ‘yours’ or sweet names this time. 

She can’t even imagine how Clarke is feeling. 

“Why, Lexa” she mutters under her breath. “How on Earth did you let Clarke be by herself in that damn restaurant?” 

She guesses there’s only one way to understand and see how much damage their relationship has taken because of this unfortunate event. 

_‘February 3rd, 2017_

_Dear Clarke,_

_Let me begin telling you how sorry I am this has happened to you._

_I swear I don’t understand. Something must have happened._

_There’s no way I’d let you by yourself without a good explanation._

_I’m so, so sorry._

_But, please, Clarke, I’m begging you. I’ve got two years, dear._

_We can try again._

_Let’s try this again._

_Always yours,_

_Lexa.’_

The blonde doctor has spent the entire week going from work straight to her bed. She’s been pretty quiet about the whole Lexa situation, and not even Raven has been able to cheer her up. 

She feels humiliated. 

She feels stupid. 

And she feels heartbroken. 

Just when she vowed herself, she wouldn't ever let anybody make her feel that way. She has failed. 

Just how it happened when she finished with Finn. 

But this is much worse. 

She has never been that broken. 

It reminds her of when she lost her father. 

Because that’s exactly what she is feeling. 

A part of her knows she just lost her chance with Lexa. 

There’s no way she’s choosing to live miserably any longer. 

_‘February 6th, 2019._

_I won’t try this again, Lexa._

_It’s too late._

_It already happened and it didn’t work._

_You know this is not a stupid book or a rom-com. Sometimes in epic love stories, the characters wait a lifetime for their love to come back to them._

_And they meet again. They have another chance. Because that’s exactly the way everybody would love to live. Soulmates that find each other no matter what._

_But life is not a book or a movie, Lex._

_Real-life can be over in a second._

_I’ve been remembering how we met almost a year ago. I was with my mom having lunch at Daley Plaza, and out of the blue, a woman was killed just right in front of me._

_She died in my arms, Lexa._

_Not that this is the best time, but I don’t know why I felt—I felt even worse than I normally feel. I felt lost. I felt like I have lost a part of me._

_And I thought: it can’t end just like that on Valentine’s Day! Because I’m sure some people loved her, people that were waiting at home and that someone will never see her again. And that got me thinking. What if there is no one?_

_What if you live your entire life waiting for something and in the end, there’s no one waiting for you?_

_It was just too much. I felt sick to the point that I drove myself to the lake house looking for any kind of answer._

_Something._

_Anything._

_And I found you._

_And I let myself get lost. Lost in this beautiful fantasy where time stood still._

_But that is exactly what this is: a fantasy._

_It’s not real, Lex._

_I have to learn to live the life that I have. Not the one I fantasize in my dreams._

_I’ve got to get a move on with my life._

_Please don’t write anymore._

_Don’t try to find me._

_Let me let you go._

_Clarke.’_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't hate me too much. Yes. Clarke is a bit extra. I don't know if I would have reacted that way. I don't really think her behaviour was the result of stubbornness, but more of her lack of self-esteem. Some people just don't really think they can be that lucky. And because of that, they tend to miss incredible things in life. Let's hope she realizes soon enough. 
> 
> Thank you to my beta, underthecovers. You should check her stories out. They're great. Cross my heart.


	13. Time waits for no one

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to the one and only [underthecovers](https://archiveofourown.org/users/underthecovers/pseuds/underthecovers) with her lovely patience to answer all my silly questions.

Previously on The Lake House...

_'I found you._

_And I let myself get lost. Lost in this beautiful fantasy where time stood still._

_But that is exactly what this is: a fantasy._

_I’ve got to get a move on with my life._

_Please don’t write anymore._

_Don’t try to find me._

_Let me let you go._

_Clarke.’_

* * *

Chapter XIII

Lexa’s been writing for weeks. The pile of letters accumulate in the mailbox. The mailman steals glances at the house every time he goes to deliver some mail and sees the letters without a name, address or postage. He ends up getting used to it and chooses to ignore them completely.

Week after week, the pile only gets bigger.

And week after week, Lexa grows more upset, confused and sad. But she refuses to give up even though it’s been two months and she needs to take some letters because the mailbox is full.

She got to the point where she felt upset with herself. What happened to her that stopped her from the date? The connection she had with Clarke was out of this world. It was magical. Special. It felt right. After years feeling as if she’s been barely breathing, she was finally happy with her life. So, how on Earth didn’t she go to the damn date? From one day to another, she just lost her, and she can’t even understand how or why. 

* * *

It’s Friday night and the pub is packed. Raven forced Clarke to come here after their shift at the hospital. The Latina has seen the blonde moping around the hospital for too long.

“Ok. Raven, remember,” the blonde warns the brunette as they look around to find a free booth, “I’m only going to stay for one drink. I’m dead tired and I just can’t wait to go home.”

In all fairness, Clarke knew she had to go out and have a drink with her friends. She’s been turning them down for weeks to the point where they stopped inviting her over.

But not Raven.

The Latina has chosen to stay with the blonde, in her own rare way, supporting her through this shitty time. And Clarke was thankful for that. When Raven came to her office during the lunch break to inform Clarke that they were going out after work, she wasn’t suggesting the blonde tag along. She was simply informing her about their schedule. Period.

So here they are, having a beer in a super packed pub on a Friday night trying to hear each other without having to shout above all the noise the people are making. It doesn’t help that it is also baseball night and the Chicago Cubs are playing. Clarke takes a look at the TV and can’t help but think about Lexa and her stupid trip to the Cubs stadium.

According to Raven, she already passed the angry phase, since she doesn’t want to throw something at the TV. In the beginning, Clarke used to get mad about something that reminds her of Lexa and started to punch, throw or just storm outside without even saying bye. Tonight, however, she endorses the desire to throw the basket of peanuts at the TV because she is, again according to Raven, over that phase.

So, that’s good news. She’s over the sad phase, the first one, and the second phase, the angry one. So, now, it was time to move on.

Right?

But it was so hard when everything reminded her of the brunette.

Clarke started drinking beer again because Lexa dislikes beer. Well, it wasn’t as if she hated it. She doesn’t care, she just grew fond of wine because the brunette recommended some brands she loves, and they used to share it ‘together’.

But not anymore. So, tonight Clarke was having her third Stella Artois.

“Hey!”

Oops. Somebody is talking to her.

Wake up.

“He—hey! You.”

Smooth, Clarke, smooth.

You don’t even remember her name and you guys work together.

The woman sensing Clarke’s distress decides to give her a hand.

“Oh, my God, Clarke, you look like you were far away from here. It’s Gaia.”

And as she finishes the phrase she grimaces slightly.

“Hi. Sorry. Gaia. I was—you were right. I was just not here. Sorry. How are you doing?”

The short hair woman smiles sheepishly and waves her hand.

“Oh. It’s ok. Sorry. It was lame.”

Clarke can’t help but smile, she looks so sweet.

“Well, I’ve had my fair share of terrible pickup lines, so no, it wasn’t that lame. It’s fine. I’m just even dorkier. You don’t need to be nervous. Uhm—you work at physiotherapy, right?”

Gaia's eyes light up seeing how the blonde doctor recognizes her.

And just like that, the two women start to chat about this and that. Clarke is pleasantly surprised when she sees how nice and easy going the nurse is.

They spend the night talking and having a drink. If the Latina notices how the blonde is step by step forgetting about how soon she wanted to go home, she doesn’t say anything.

At the end of the night, Gaia insisted on walking Clarke home. As they approach her building, the nurse starts to play with her keys nervously. The doctor is about to wish her good night.

“Would you go on a date with me?” she blurts out and grows red with her lack of game, “I mean, if you want you, I don’t know, grab a bite someday. It’s uh—”

Clarke can’t say she’s surprised with the nurse question since well, she could sense her intentions before the conversation even started. But the truth is, she didn’t have any expectations tonight and it turned out to be a good one. Gaia was nice, witty and quite attractive.

So, why not?

As if in answer, she looks up and finds the tree Lexa planted for her.

Damn tree.

The blonde hesitates for a moment but then looks up at the nurse who’s adorably fidgeting with her sweeter.

“You know what? I’d like that.” 

* * *

It’s a beautiful and warm day in spring and Lexa is walking around the lake with Polpetta. The dog has recently become a little bit cheeky. Chewing her slippers, refusing her treats. It’s like the damn puppy can sense she should be mad at Lexa. Even though Lexa doesn’t understand why. But it’s ok. Lexa is mad at herself too from time to time. Read as every time something reminds her of Clarke. Well, not at herself, but her future self.

Idiot future Lexa. Whatever.

The architect is lost in her own mind when she sees Polpetta running away. At first, she thought it was a rabbit or something, but then, when she chases her, she has a feeling the dog is purely ignoring her.

So, after two hours trying to find her, she realizes, indeed, it’s time to come back to the house. The dog knows where it is, so, if she has to come back, she will go there.

Two days after that, the brunette is packing some boxes in her living room. Polpetta is yet to show and Lexa is incredibly sad.

Scratch that.

She’s heartbroken.

More heartbroken.

She finally realizes she might have run out of her time with the puppy too.

So, she keeps packing her stuff.

Damn future Lexa.

She finds the stash of letters she wrote for Clarke after the blonde asked her not to. More than two dozen of letters where she begs the blonde over and over to give her another chance at first, and where she just tells Clarke about her day.

The brunette is sitting on the floor with the letters in one hand and a box in the other. A part of her wants to be over with this for once and for all, and the other part just refuses to let Clarke go.

She sweetly kisses the stash, trying to convey all the love, the time, the thoughts and the if’s that she gave to the young doctor; put them in the box and neatly closes it.

Then she grabs the box and goes to the attic. There’s no way she’s taking that part of her to the new chapter in her life. If she does, there won’t be a chance to move on. So, the letters stay where they always should have stayed.

At the lake house.

Just when she is about to exit the attic, she realizes she is leaving the box Clarke will warn her about after moving out. The one covered in dust. 

* * *

It’s been a long day for her.

She’s been up since four in the morning trying to figure out a few things before the debate that is being held in the town’s high school.

It took her a few months to set things right but after her early retirement at the hospital, she has settled into her spot at the Environment & Health Department. After many years as a consultant for the Council, she was finally running for Councilwoman in her little town. It was a long shot since she didn’t have much experience in politics, but her time at the Council gave her the courage and knowledge she needed.

After a small pause for lunch, she was reading some notes before heading to the High School. It was a warm day in June. She makes a mental note to call Clarke after the debate to figure out if Octavia is coming to the 4th of July barbeque.

She hadn’t had a chance to see Clarke in the last few weeks because ‘Mom, the registrar is a tough cookie. The few hours I have off I need my beauty sleep’. The blonde doctor seems to forget her -not that old- mother passed her residency too and she still had time to go to see her parents!

“Who are you trying to kid, oh daughter of mine?”

Abby can’t help but wonder. Besides, she’s seen all the pictures Clarke’s friends posted on Facebook.

“Residence? My ass. More like the parades and parties from Pride Month.”

She’s not gonna lie. Clarke looks gorgeous with her big pink and blue flag and Abby can’t help but go showing pictures to everyone at work, trying, in vain, to help her find a boyfriend or a girlfriend.

So what? Clarke was smart, gorgeous and a kind soul. Just like her father. So, she needed to approve of her partner in life. Sue her.

She turns the TV on just in time where CNN is talking about new efforts to repeal the Affordable Care Act.

“These fuckers won’t stop until they mess up and replace Obamacare.”

She scoffs loudly while listening to President Trump talking about God knows what when she hears the ring from the front door. When the door is opened a young and familiar brunette appears in front of her seeming unrealistically nervous.

“May I help you, young lady?”

Lexa can’t remember the last time she was this nervous. It would have been, she believes, when she went to Christine Sendermon’s parent's house in Freshman year to take her for a date and her father gave her a scary lecture about curfew, honour and traditions, or whatever.

“Hello, ma’am. I’m Alexandra. We’ve met a couple of—”

“Oh my God! I can’t believe I didn’t recognize you. Shame on me. Sorry, dear. Please, come in.”

Lexa visibly relaxes but decides to stay put.

“It’s fine. Mrs Griffin. I would rather stay here. Besides, this conversation will take just a few minutes of your time.”

Abby smiles and nods for Lexa to continue her speech. Lexa is sweating bullets at this point and she can’t understand why. She shakily grabs a keychain from her pocket and hands it to the former doctor.

“I just— I remembered about your daughter at the street market that day and — Uh.”

So smooth.

“… Here take them!” Abby can’t help but lift her brow in surprise because one, what is Lexa exactly doing with the keys? And two, how does she remember her, and actually know that her daughter wanted keys to the lake house after seeing her only for ten minutes, months ago?”

“I’m afraid I don’t follow you, dear. What’s this?”

“I’m sorry. I—I mean, do you still want to rent a lake house? I happen to have the keys of a house which is for rent at the moment and I know it’s perfect for Clarke,” she finishes sounding quite surer of herself than she thought.

“How do you know what Clarke wants?” she wonders not sceptical but confused.

“Trust me.”

And with that she turns around and gets in her old blue truck, leaving a very perplexed Abby behind with the set of keys of her daughter’s alleged dream house. 

* * *

It’s been a long day. Finding a new apartment in Downtown was easier thanks to her sister. Apparently, Anya knew of someone who knew someone who rented a place.

“I’m just saying going from a house on the lake to this tiny loft is lowering your expectations. More. Even for sure. I mean.”

“Thank you, Anya. You truly know how to cheer me up.”

“You’re welcome, sis. I must admit. It’s difficult for me to improve day by day when it comes to you. Geez, you give me so much work.”

Once they’re done carrying boxes, Lexa orders some pizza and grabs a beer from the almost empty fridge. The dinner was nice and calm. Both sisters lost in their thoughts. Just when Lexa is cleaning the stuff from their dinner, Anya pays attention to one of the several sketches resting on one of the drafting tables.

“So, just to be clear. You guys are not talking anymore?”

Lexa bites her lips nervously and busies herself cleaning the coffee table. Again.

“Uh—No. We stopped talking after Christmas.”

After a long pause.

“You know you’re fixating. Right?”

How the hell she knows…

Just when Lexa is about to sass back a witty reply the brunette sees how her sister is showing her one of the drawings from the lake house.

Oh, she meant the house.

_Oh_.

She remains silent.

“Why do you keep tweaking the lake house”

Because it’s her father's design?

Because it’s her childhood house?

Because the house is an art form in itself?

“Because it’s hers.”

Well, that too.

Anya tilts her head to the side amused.

“You’re talking about the girl from the future…”

A tiny nod.

“She asked you to move on, Lexa. I think it’s only fair, especially after so many months, to do that exactly. You need a real woman.”

The brunette shoots her sister a death glare.

“While it lasted, she was more real to me than any of that stuff,” she says gripping her drawings.

“She was more real than anything I’ve ever known,” she finishes in a deep voice full of sorrow.

Her sister can’t hide the wince fast enough and Lexa continues her little rambling.

"I saw her, Anya! I—I held her hand. I think I loved her.” The last part is said softly as part of a confession. “… And now, now she’s gone.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please don't forget to drop some comments, kudos and glasses of wine. I get super excited when I see how much you guys enjoy the story!! :)
> 
> If you fancy, you can take a look at my other Clexa Movie AU stories! 
> 
> [Wedding Crashers](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21270506/chapters/50643110) and [Notting Hill](https://archiveofourown.org/works/19434865/chapters/46253476)


	14. Time brings all things to pass

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As I promised, here it is. I hope you enjoy it. 
> 
> Another chapter beautifully beta'ed by underthecovers. Thank you, mate.

Previously on The Lake House...

“She was more real than anything I’ve ever known,” she finishes in a deep voice full of sorrow.

Her sister can’t hide the wince fast enough and Lexa continues her little rambling.

"I saw her, Anya! I—I held her hand. I think I loved her.” The last part is said softly as part of a confession. “… And now, now she’s gone.” 

* * *

Chapter XIV

Clarke is lounging on the couch, dressed in a sports bra and some old boxers. She’s been there since she woke up three hours ago. It’s been a rainy day in October. She knows Raven is planning for her birthday party, which she said she didn’t need nor want, but the Latina had an idea in mind, and she wasn’t dropping it. However, it goes without saying, she’d rather spend the night watching some Netflix and having take out. A girl can dream.

She is absentmindedly scratching Polpetta ears, something that really relaxes her when she hears the front door open.

“Hey, babe. How’s your day off been?”

The doctor smiles at the short-haired girl who sits next to her and gives her a chaste peck.

“Hey! It’s been nice. I slept. A lot. And then I binged for hours. I only wish we could spend the night just like that watching Money Heist and eating junk food.”

“You are just the soul of the party, aren’t you?” the woman replies with a chuckle, “You know, you promised Raven to go out tonight, and she’s been busting her ass to arrange an awesome party for you.”

Clarke bites her lip with a guilty expression. She knows she hasn’t been giving her 100% with her relationship these last months. She’s been doing better, but she isn’t there. Not yet. She can’t help but feel a bit remorseful. Especially with her… girlfriend? She and Gaia have been dating for a few months now.

The doctor feels like she’s been living her life in the third person. Watching everything pass by. One day the cute nurse was asking her on a date under the damn tree and now she’s practically attached to the hip. And still she is not 100% there. It is nice to go out with somebody with similar interests to her, and she enjoys their time together. Clarke has been clear with her since day one.

Gaia knew that Clarke was, sort of, moving on from something. They specifically never talk about the subject. And Clarke has never hidden that her job was her number one priority. Something that Gaia was fine with. She respects Clarke’s issues and is cool with where the relationship is going.

“You know you really should lock your front door, right? I mean, I went in and anybody could do that. We’re in Chicago. It’s dangerous to leave your door unlocked.”

Clarke waves her hand, resting importance to the nurse’s statement.

“I knew it was you before you even got close to the door. Polpetta always growls a bit every time somebody gets close to the door.”

The fur friend lifts her head interested piqued with she heard her name; wishing her owner would give her a treat.

Not lucky enough, she resumes her position neatly between Clarke’s legs.

“I still don’t understand why you keep calling her that. It’s a weird name.”

Something flashes in Clarke’s eyes, but it’s gone before her girlfriend notices it.

“You’re just jealous because she doesn’t seem to click with you no matter how many treats you give her.”

Gaia opens her mouth, ready to sass the blonde back.

“I don’t give her treats!”

“That’s right. You bribe her.”

The short-haired girl gives her a cute pout, seeing as how she can’t get out of this one.

“I just don’t understand why after many months she doesn’t seem to like me the way she likes you. I mean, I bribe her! And still despite that she’s nice to me, I can feel her little eyes on me watching me and judging me as saying ‘I know you’re not good enough for my mama, stay away’. Why, babe, why?”

Clarke just gives her a sad smile and grabs her hand. How can she explain to her girlfriend what she really thinks, that the silly dog seems to be upset with her for breaking her communication with Lexa. It might sound crazy, but it’s true. Since the correspondence got cut, Polpetta has been more and more anxious and rebellious as in some sense, she knows what happened between her two owners.

Damn silly dog.

“So, how about we order some takeout and then get ready for the party?”

“Lou Malnati’s or La Scarola?”

“You mean Italian or Italian?”

The young doctor gives her a stupid cheerful smile and sticks out her tongue.

“I mean, how else do you expect to earn my dog’s love?”

“Does that mean I have already earned her owner’s love?”

Bolt, Gaia, bolt.

Clarke doesn’t know how to respond to that. Well, she knows the answer, she just doesn’t have the heart to tell her that she is not in the same place in their relationship. And she’s been honest with the nurse from day one, but from time to time, Gaia has pushed her in the direction she wants for them. Which is awkward because she’s not there and she doesn’t want to be. But today she doesn’t want to give the nurse the talk again and she simply smiles allowing the other woman to smile back and, finally, drops the conversation.

“La Scarola it is. I call while you take a shower.”

Clarke takes her hand to her chest in the faux offence.

“Are you implying I smell Nurse Seda?”

“Indeed, Dr Griffin.”

With that, Clarke leaves the woman in the living room and heads to her bedroom. Just when she’s about to grab some underwear from the drawer, she steps and hears the sound of a loose hardwood plank beneath her feet. She purposely steps again in the same spot and hears the same sound. She can’t understand how she never noticed it before but then remembers she placed the big armchair in this spot when she first moved in, only moving it last week when she redecorated the room.

The blonde frowns as she bends down to see what is wrong with the loose plank. The entire house has solid hardwood floors, and they were not exactly cheap, so she doesn’t understand how after only this little time it’s possible to find a defect. Just as she starts to feel around with her foot the piece of wood comes out from the flooring.

“So much for quality materials…” she mutters under her breath before stilling when her hand brushed against something. She focuses on a little package in a nook beneath the floorboards. She reaches inside and grabs a little white package. She carefully unwraps it and sees a small box.

Clarke opens it and gasps loudly, breaking the silence in the room.

_Her father’s watch._

Tears start to flood from her cerulean eyes and she thanks every single God, that she’s by herself in this private moment. Attached to the watch there is a little note. Clarke goes to the bathroom to prevent any interruptions and starts reading the neat calligraphy of the architect that stole her heart too many months ago.

_“I’m traveling through a city_

_that no longer dwells in me._

_I could swear that everything is changed._

_I could swear that once the sea was here._

_Or the sky._

_I could swear that I flew over this city_

_with more wings_

_than years._

_When one leaves_

_One realizes that home_

_isn’t where you come from_

_or where you’re going._

_We carry our house on our backs,_

_and sometimes they are so tight and narrow_

_that we abandon them halfway down the road._

_That’s why_

_when we lose ourselves_

_it’s so hard to feel safe._

_When one leaves_

_and returns to that time_

_she does so with another color in her eyes,_

_with a different gravity in her hands,_

_with a definite air about her,_

_with a heart that beats in emigrant._

_When one leaves_

_and returns_

_one finds herself in a strange and made-up place,_

_a city dressed up for other people,_

_like that girl we reject_

_and who becomes, suddenly,_

_a delightful person and not suitable for us._

_The relationship between a voluntary emigrant_

_and her city of origin_

_is like that of a couple that grew up together_

_and meant to love each other all their lives only to separate later:_

_the remains of a love that appeared eternal_

_and a breakup that was declared inevitable._

_Nor are all the places that one leaves_

_put on hold_

_nor do all the people that one forsakes remain._

_But I could tell you_

_that I will make any that licks your footsteps_

_your home._

_I could say to you that if you leave me someday_

_I’ll put myself before you,_

_precisely in that exact place_

_that will never let you_

_look back with regret._

_I could say to you_

_that you must know that you dwell in my eyes,_

_that I carry your laughter embedded in my arteries,_

_that there is no place in my body in which your sorrow doesn’t fit,_

_that when you don’t have a spot to return to_

_consider that all of the hollows are open to you._

_I could say to you_

_that if one day you feel lost_

_within yourself,_

_I will find the solution to your labyrinth_

_opening up my breast_

_and putting you before me,_

_precisely in that place where I speak so much about you_

_that it won’t cost you any effort to recognize yourself_

_and to find yourself again._

_I could say to you_

_that for me_

_any place_

_is my home_

_if you are_

_the one who opens the door.”_

When Clarke finishes, she lets out the sob she has been keeping at bay since half of the poem. She’s glad she hid in the bathroom and started the shower because she can’t gather the strength to hide the sorrow she’s feeling right now. 

* * *

“Ten, nine, eight, seven, six, five, four, three, two, one… Happy New Year!!”

There are fireworks in the background, along with loud music and the happy-drunken chattering from the vast group of people in the yet small apartment.

Everybody seems happy exchanging hugs, kisses and wishes, yet a lone person is standing in front of the big floor-to-ceiling window.

The lithe brunette isn’t in the mood to welcome 2018. It’s been almost a year since the last conversation with the blonde and she can’t help but remember how different this situation is from last New Year’s Eve. Just a year ago, she was craving to tell the doctor about her plans at Christmas. She was also in her lake house. She’s been missing the views, the trees, the sunsets… everything.

“Here you are!!” her sister approaches her with another flute of champagne, “Salute!”

Lexa grabs the glass, and she indulges her sister with a small smile, knowing how important it was for Anya to spend Christmas. Last year was particularly hard for the dark-blonde woman since they lost their father a few weeks prior to the holidays, and so she felt a bit down during this year as well. That’s why Lexa attempted to spend as much time with Anya as she could.

* * *

After only four months and a half, the woman has popped the big question.

Well, not the big, big question.

The significant smaller big question.

However, according to Clarke, it was indeed a big question. Just a few minutes before New Year’s Eve, the nurse had grabbed Clarke’s hand and asked to move in together. The blonde felt… Well, she doesn’t know what she felt in that moment. In all fairness, she has to say she wasn’t ready to do that big step, but, on the other hand, she didn’t want to waste more time hoping for a better chance. She remembered the wise words from the little girl at the hospital more than a year ago about the missing chances in life when you keep waiting for something that might never arrive.

So she said yes. She jumped to the pool and said yes. Because why not?

She has grown very fond of Gaia and, even though she couldn’t say the three words yet, her girlfriend understands and knows she just needs to go in small steps.

So, here they were, a few days after the new year, looking for a place to share.

A new place without loose wood floorboards with stupid memories.

A new street without a single tree with stupid memories.

A new chapter.

That was exactly what she needed.

Unfortunately, they weren’t able to agree on a place and after two weeks they were a bit down about it. Well, if Clarke was being honest, she fell in love with a big loft near Hyde Park, but the place was trashed. Hiring a firm was a must to make the place habitable. She remembers how off her girlfriend was about the loft.

“I can’t believe I gave up lunch for this, Clarke.”

“I know it needs work.”

“Work? You meant Miley Cyrus running from the living room singing ‘I came in like a wrecking ball’- work?”

The blonde can’t help laughing at the picture her girlfriend had conjured.

“Look, I found an architect who specializes in renovations.”

After a slight pause and a little hesitation, “I made an appointment for next week.”

The short-haired woman widens her eyes and with a small frown accuses, “An ambush…”

“C’mon! We can’t stay in my apartment forever. You said you wanted to move in with me. Well, we need to find a place.”

The young doctor holds her girlfriend's hands with pleading eyes and the nurse is about to crack in two seconds with just a little more push.

“I wanna keep moving forward.”

You’re mean, Clarke Griffin.

“What firm?”

“It’s a new firm.”

“’New’ as in inexperienced?"

“No. They’ve been working forever. It’s ‘New’ as in `cheap.’”

Gaia’s shoulders fall. Despite being a nurse, the young woman came from a wealthy family and even though she didn’t brag about it, her style of life was, let’s just say, nice.

“Ok. Let’s see them; but if we are not convinced at 100%, we keep looking.” 

* * *

The building is renowned for its 181-foot Art Deco tower. It’s in the downtown area next to the Auditorium Theater. The interior lobby renovation was designed by Ludwig Mies van der Rohe himself and is considered one of his masterpieces. Clarke is lost in the inside's beauty as they go to floor 100 where the firm is located.

She can clearly see how Gaia is growing more and more confident about hiring this firm just for the place. Well, in all fairness, she can’t believe herself how this firm can offer such good prices while having that experience and caché.

As soon as they enter the firm they are surrounded by beautiful sketches around the spacious lobby. They approach a neat desk where a man is typing on his computer.

“Good morning, I’m Dr. Griffin. We have an appointment.”

The young man stops typing and lifts his head, smiling.

“Good morning, Dr Griffin. My name is Monty Green. We’ll be with you in a moment,” he says as he gets up and takes them to a small area with two white sofas and a crystal coffee table.

“Let me get your coats. May I bring you some coffee, water or tea, in the meantime?”

“No thank you. We’re good.” Gaia says while handing the young man their coats.

After a few minutes, they are taken to a small conference room with immense floor-to-ceiling windows and a spectacular view of the city. The room has a big TV and some portfolios.

“Oh, by the way,” Clarke breaks the silence, “I’ve made some reservations for tonight.”

Gaia looks taken aback.

“Is that so?”

“Yes.”

The blonde is patiently waiting for the other woman to catch up, but after a moment she seems to realize the other woman completely forgot about what day is.

“It’s Valentine’s Day?”

Gaia’s mouth forms a small ‘o’ and she stops in her tracks.

“Oh, my God. I completely forgot. I’ve been so swamped and… Sorry, Clarke! I - I already made plans with some colleagues from work. I mean, I didn’t realize—raincheck? I mean, it’s a silly tradition, isn’t?”

The doctor waves her hand nonchalantly but before she can find an answer a tall and lithe woman in her thirties and impeccably dressed enters the room.

“Hello. Welcome to W. A. Visionary Vanguard Associates. My name is Anya. Shall we start?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The story is coming to an end. 
> 
> Don't forget to drop some kudos, comments and cocktails. I get super happy when I read your little messages. 
> 
> By the way, the BEAUTIFUL poem that Lexa 'wrote' for Clarke is from 'One day I will save myself' by Elvira Sastre. A Spanish poetess, part of our LGBT+ community, who has incredible books in several languages. Totally recommended.


	15. What if

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for making you wait extra days, I had a crazy week at work. 
> 
> Once again underthecovers did an exceptional job proofreading the chapter. Thank you, mate, for the bottom of my heart.

Previously on The Lake House...

“It’s Valentine’s Day?”

Gaia’s mouth forms a small ‘o’ and she stops in her tracks. The doctor waves her hand nonchalantly but before she can find an answer a tall and lithe woman in her thirties and impeccably dressed enters the room.

“Hello. Welcome to W. A. Visionary Vanguard Associates. My name is Anya. Shall we start?”

* * *

Chapter XV

“I can’t believe how warm the weather is. For God sakes! It’s February and this is supposed to be Chicago!”

The two sisters leave the building and before they step a foot on the street, Anya is already moaning about the hot weather. Lexa can’t believe how her stoic and broody sister has become such a baby. They’re both wearing warm clothes and fluffy coats.

The older sister has, as per usual, a little bit fancier outfit, but the brunette is as well clean too. She’s wearing grey pants and a white blouse. The blazer gives her a chic look and the black boots legs for days.

Despite her outfit consisting of black, white and greys, she tops it with a colorful red scarf. The only note of color. A gift from Clarke. She has never said anything to her sister, afraid of her mockery, but the brunette was unable to stay away from the soft garment, even on a warm day like today.

“It’s global warming. We’re killing the planet.”

“Dramatic much, Heda?”

“Whatever. So, do you want to go to Treekru to grab a beer after work?”

“Sorry I can’t. I’m taking Josephine out for Valentine’s Day.”

Lexa stops in her tracks. This may not have been the best moment to do so as they’re in the middle of a pedestrian crossing. Anya eyes widened comically and grabs her sister’s arm to make her reach the sidewalk.

* * *

“Hello. Welcome to W. A. Visionary Vanguard Associates. My name is Anya. Shall we start?”

Clarke is surprised by a tall, blonde woman with sharp cheekbones. Once they sit, the architect starts her presentation with different blueprints. The big TV from the side of the conference room turns on and a 3D simulation appears on screen.

Clarke can’t help but feel a little uneasy. She feels like she’s missing something, and she looks around the room. Trying to figure it out why she feels like she knows this woman. There can’t be too many Anyas in Chicago, she wonders. Maybe she met her once at the hospital, who knows. She seems to be a few years older, so Clarke doubts they were at school together.

One of the things that catch her attention is the woman’s sharp cheekbones, and it makes her chuckle. She remembers how the mysterious woman–whom she is yet to meet, that Raven has been seeing for the last few weeks, is called ‘cheekbones’ by the Latina.

Someone clears their throat and Clarke returns to the room. She’s a little embarrassed at being caught daydreaming. A quick glance to her right, lets her know it’s her girlfriend is the one who cleared her throat.

Once the architect starts the presentation, Clarke’s attention is hooked. She moves her hands to her chest, completely in awe of how amazing the project looks. It’s as if it were another apartment!

“… So obviously, the first thing you see is what we had talked about: the atrium.”

Clarke smiles like a little child.

“That’s stunning. Oh my God!” Clarke breathes out as she surveys everything before realizing something else, “So, we could do it with all the glass panels in the metal structure.”

“We are glad you’re happy with the last touches.”

* * *

“Say that again.”

Is the only response the brunette can give.

“Hello? It’s Valentine’s Day today. I’m taking Josephine, my girlfriend, out. You know? Cold champagne, some oysters, no wait, scratch that, I want some crab cakes… the big deal.”

But Lexa is ignoring every single detail her sister is giving. She’s a woman on a mission.

“What’s the date?!”

“Lexa, are you for real? It’s freaking Valentine’s Day! So, obviously, it’s February 14th. What’s wrong with you? Did I hit your head too hard this morning during our sparring match? Baby Gay Jesus, wh— “

Anya cut the crap. It’s February 14th, 2018!”

“Uh…”

Anya really thinks she hit her sister too hard this morning. She didn’t have enough with the strange romance with somebody from another year, now this. It was too much. The hazel-eyed woman didn’t know for how long her sister could work before losing it.

* * *

They were about to say their goodbyes. Clarke has already made some changes to the main project, and she was looking forward to seeing how the firm could make it happen.

She was so close to her dream house.

Just when she has that thought she couldn’t help but remember the lake house.

That was her dream house.

But going back there wasn’t something she had in mind. She’s been barely hanging in there these past months without thinking about the brunette. Time has helped. Somewhat. She was doing so much better now. She has moments where she lets her guard down. But, above all, she was happy with how things were moving on.

She has a fantastic job. She has her dog. And a beautiful woman who worships her. Even though Gaia has forgotten about their first Valentine’s Day.

Don’t be petty, Clarke. It’s just another day, she tells herself while Gaia is making the last arrangements with the architect. Just as she is about to say her goodbyes, something catches her eyes on the left side of the room. She takes a quick peek and sees a beautifully framed sketch of a…

Is that? It can’t be...

Clarke rudely cuts the conversation short and quickly crosses the room to get closer to the sketch.

Once in front of it, she tilts her head to the side pensively.

It can’t be…

A lovely drawing of the lake house in all its glory; beautifully standing on the lake. The sketch has a nice size, with a 16x20 inch, stunning yet clean white framed.

But what has her head spiralling out of control is the fact that this is not only her former house, her lake house but the drawing itself. The traces, the lines, the play of shadows and light…

This is Lexa’s.

“Who did this drawing?” she demands.

She already knows the answer.

She just needs to hear it out loud.

She turns around in search of her answer when she sees a flash of grief in Anya’s eyes. The blonde architect quickly masks her sadness and gives Clarke a confused look.

“Uh, my sister did it, actually.”

She knew it. 

Oh, my God. _Anya_. Anya Woods. 

“Who’s your sister?”

You know it.

“Lexa Woods.” And after a slight pause, “You know her?”

Clarke turns again to the sketch and gets a little closer to map every detail. This is the closest she has indulged herself to be around something from Lexa since the day she found her father’s watch months ago. After that, she put everything in a wooden box hidden in her closet.

Clarke wants to touch the drawing, but she supposes it would be rude, so instead, she smiles fondly keeping a few tears at bay.

“Yeah. Yeah. I know her.”

Sort of.

Right?

After a few seconds of hesitation, Clarke decides this is definitely a sign and before her head can scold her poor heart, she blurts out.

“Is she…? Is she anywhere that I can…?”

At the lack of response, Clarke looks over her shoulder to Anya, who has quietly approached the blonde.

“I’m sorry. My sister - Lexa. She died.”

Clarke looks at the sketches again to hide the surprise and confusion of her face. After a few seconds, she can hear how the architect softly explains.

“It was actually two years ago today.”

The doctor can barely contain her tears now, and she realizes how Anya got closer and is now standing next to her in front of the sketch. The older woman has a pained expression.

It surprised how a strong and broody woman as the architect, at least that was the impression she got during the meetings, looked so vulnerable.

“There was an accident—”

Two years ago.

And it only takes her frowning face a few seconds to wonder _what if._

“Where?”

And with the brief answer, Clarke is gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ONE chapter left. 
> 
> Please if you've enjoyed the chapter, spare a few minutes to let me know with the form of comments, kudos and cocktails.


	16. Take me back to the start

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the last chapter, folks.
> 
> Always grateful to my beta [underthecovers](https://archiveofourown.org/users/underthecovers/pseuds/underthecovers)

Previously on The Lake House...

“Who did this drawing?” she demands.

She turns around in search of her answer when she sees a flash of grief in Anya’s eyes. The blonde architect quickly masks her sadness and gives Clarke a confused look.

“Uh, my sister did it, actually.”

“Is she…? Is she anywhere that I can…?”

“I’m sorry. My sister - Lexa. She died.”

Clarke looks at the sketches again to hide the surprise and confusion of her face. After a few seconds, she can hear how the architect softly explains.

“It was actually two years ago today... there was an accident.”

And it only takes her frowning face a few seconds to wonder _what if._

* * *

Chapter XVI

She has to admit it was a long shot. 

But _what if?_

The old truck speeds down the dirt roads leading to the lake house. 

She just prays she’s not too late. 

As soon she enters the house, the musty smell of the closed-up lunge hits her nostrils. 

She goes straight to the attic where a dusty box welcomes her. The same box she closed more than a year ago where she placed all the letters and small drawings Clarke wrote. 

The woman starts looking for a specific letter. It would have been much easier if she had kept each letter in chronological order. However, in the past she didn’t have in mind that someday she would be frantically searching for a piece of information that could change everything. 

Best part?

She couldn’t even remember where that piece of information was. 

“Think, Lexa, think… please.” 

She tries to calm herself. 

She remembers Clarke told her about something that happened to her during Valentine’s Day while she was having… lunch? Perhaps? 

“Argh! Damn it!

She was running out of time. 

It was almost noon, and she couldn’t find the letter. She had more than thirty letters and very little time.

It was like looking for a needle in a haystack.

The brunette left the pile of letters and sat with her legs crossed. She comes to the conclusion that it is not smart to act like a headless chicken. She needs to focus.

After a couple of minutes going through the letters in her own head, she remembers the conversation came from one of Clarke’s last letters. The blonde doctor was talking about what she should do from that moment on, about not wasting more time, because life was too short, or something like that… and then, she said she was with a friend having lunch and somebody died in a car crash. 

She was having lunch with her mother! 

And then the car accident happened, and she tried to save the poor woman’s life, but it was in vain. And it was Valentine’s Day. And that poor soul’s family will miss her dearly. 

Where were you...?

She was with her mother in… 

“Shit!”

She starts again looking for the letter, but she wastes too much time opening every one of them to see the dates. 

“She loves Picasso!” 

The brunette has no idea how the hell she has come to that conclusion or the reason why that piece of information comes out or her brain at that moment. But it was true, Clarke has a soft spot for the Spanish painter.

So, what, Lexa?

“No, it means something… Think, Lexa. Picasso Plaza? No, she doubts it exists in Chicago, the Picasso Plaza.” 

After a few seconds in total concentration and narrowed eyes. 

“A Picasso in Chicago! How the hell I couldn’t come out with that before!! Stupid, Lexa! The spectacular monument sculpture by Picasso in Daley Plaza! "

_She is having lunch in Daley Plaza!_

_God_. 

It took you forever, Woods.

And with that, she runs downstairs only hoping she is still in time to have a last chance with the woman she loves.

* * *

She just went there. 

She doesn’t know if she’s on time.

She only knows she left a note and the red flag hasn’t moved.

She’s been staring at the mailbox for the last fifteen minutes and the flag hasn’t moved. 

And then she breaks out a painful sob and falls to her knees. 

Because she might have understood too late. 

* * *

“I can’t believe how warm it is,” her mother says, enjoying the rays looking directly towards the sun. Clarke, on the other hand, is protecting her delicate eyes behind big and dark glasses.

“I know. It’s crazy. Sixty-five degrees on Valentine’s Day. This can’t be Chicago.”

Abby agrees and nods.

On the other side of the Street, Lexa is rushing between passers-by. It was after the rush period for lunch breaks, and everybody was going back to their jobs after a nice meal. Washington Street was packed, and it was almost impossible to see across the street. The architect decides it’s for the best to get as close as she can to the Plaza and search for the blonde.

And then she sees her from across the street. 

And the brunette can’t help the big grin and the warm feeling that invades her. 

She is there on time. 

Clarke is right there. Chatting with her mother. 

Lexa just needs to wait until they’re about to leave and then approach the woman with a silly excuse. 

If only she could get a little bit closer to see her better.

* * *

_Feb. 14_ _ th _ _, 2020_

_I know why you didn’t show up that night._

_It was you at Daley Plaza. That day._

_It was you._

_Please, please, I’m begging you, don’t go._

_Just wait for me. Please._

_Don’t look for me._

_Don’t try to find me._

_I love you, Lex._

_I’m so fucking sorry it’s taken me all this time say it, but I love you._

_And if you still care for me, please, wait for me._

_Wait with me._

_Just wait two years, Lex. And come to the lake house._

_Yours,_

_Clarke.’_

* * *

A big truck is moving past the next lane as Lexa waits patiently on the border of the sidewalk just ready to cross the street. 

It’s like she can’t see or hear anything around her.

She can’t take her eyes off of the blonde. 

She just needs to take a few more steps.

Suddenly, a big crash is heard.

* * *

The woman is on her knees sobbing and completely and utterly broken when she hears a small sound coming from above her. 

Just when she looks up, she sees the small red flag coming down and she can swear to every single fucking God there is, that she can picture Lexa waiting across the street in Daley Plaza just about to step forward right in front of that bus with a little note crunched in her fist. 

She is patiently looking at the mailbox waiting for a reply, a sign, anything, really, when she hears the sound of wheels of a car against the pavement. 

Then she looks to her left and still on her knees, sees an old blue Ford truck coming down the dirt road. 

Clarke gets up slowly, in pure shock, and wipes the tears from her face. 

She can’t see the driver, so when the truck parks she tilts her head to the side trying to figure out what is happening.

Then a tall and lithe figure gets out of the car and the blonde lets out a slow breath that she didn’t know she was holding. 

Her shoulder fell in pure relief and her face lit up like the bright sun. 

Lexa is smiling softly and yet so timidly, wearing tight blue jeans, ankle boots and a Bordeaux jersey along with her coat and Clarke’s scarf. 

She looks adorable. 

And Clarke can’t think of anything more precious. 

They are walking toward each other and they are now smiling openly, and with every step, they take the bigger their smiles are. 

Clarke looks at her in disbelief and waits until they are faced to face to talk. 

“You waited.”

But the only response the brunette gives comes in the form of a kiss. 

And the kiss was, _oh_ , it was like coming home after waiting a lifetime.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A two-chapters epilogue will be posted in a week because I refuse to say goodbye to our favourite couple. 
> 
> How about some comments, kudos and nachos with guacamole to let me know what you guys think about the last chapter? 
> 
> By the way, if you have a bit of time on your hands, take a look at my other Clexa Movies AU:
> 
> [Wedding Crashers](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21270506/chapters/50643110) and [Notting Hill](https://archiveofourown.org/works/19434865/chapters/46253476)


	17. Author’s Note

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Let's choose the next Clexa Movie AU.

Hey mates,

It is indeed this time of the year again. 

Before we start, I want to make an announcement. For my next story, **I will be needing a new BETA**. Everything is super cool with underthecovers and she has done an incredible job. However, is time for us to part ways. So, if there is any anglophone willing to lend a hand with correcting some spelling, grammar, etc. Please, let me know. The sooner I find the proofreader the sooner we get the new fic but I need someone who takes their task at hand seriously. 

So, now the fun part.

I’ll be finishing this story very soon and I’m interested in knowing what you guys are craving for future fics. 

I've changed the option from the previous one. It doesn't mean I won't ever write them, just that right now my mood is craving a different kind of story more along the line of Wedding Crashers. 

Yet, again, I’m sticking with movies and here I offer a few choices. 

  * **Two Weeks Notice** : She's a damn good lawyer yet again she's stuck working for a childish and immature, although handsome and super-rich CEO. However, she grows up tired of being her nanny and decides to quit and walk away.  
  
I'm going again with Sandra Bullock because she's unique when it comes to comedy. What do you guys think? CEO Lexa and assistant Clarke Griffin or the other way around? I don't know why, but I'm getting serious vibes with CEO Clarke Griffin!   
  
<https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1YG-vYfz8yM>  
  
  

  * **Miss Congeniality** : Lexa Woods, a damn good FBI agent must go undercover in the Miss United State beauty pageant to prevent a group from bombing the even. Dresses, makeup and speeches are not in Lexa's top list priority. Her handler, agent Clarke Griffin, will sweat bullets with her collegiate antics and perhaps fall in love with her too.   
  
<https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LwrEnPYHsyQ>  
  
  

  * **Hitch** : Meet Wanheda/Heda, New York's city best matchmaker. Love is her job and she'll get you the person of your dreams in only three dates. So when the tabloid columnist of the moment decides to uncover the secret behind the tubby schlub's success, she's shocked to discover that the charming woman she's been seeing, is the legendary date doctor herself. Exposed in a front-page scoop, it's now up to Dr Love to try to save her client-friend relationship as well as her own. Which only goes to show that just when you think you've found true love, there's always a HITCH.   
  
Again, who should be according to you Hitch, Lexa or Clarke? I totally can see it in both ways.  
  
<https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pYrrEUgnT6s>



I would really love to see a big response from you! So, now, I really need you to **comment** below which one you prefer.

Cheers!


	18. Epilogue I

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the first part of a two-chapters epilogue. 
> 
> Do not forget to vote for the next movie but, please, do it on the Author's Note chapter. 
> 
> Thanks to underthecovers for taking the time to fix my silly mistakes. Everything looks fancier thanks to you, mate.

Previously on The Lake House...

Clarke looks at her in disbelief and waits until they are faced to face to talk. 

“You waited.”

But the only response the brunette gives comes in the form of a kiss. 

And the kiss was, _oh_ , it was like coming home after waiting a lifetime.

* * *

Epilogue

“Mama, mama! Jack has splashed water on my drawing book! It’s insurmo—insurmunte—able!”

“Insurmountable, honey. And why don’t you—”

“That’s not true! I didn’t splash water; he was too close to the shore and got in my drone’s way while landing!”

“Well, babe—”

“Liar! You did it on pour-pose.” 

The small boy whined while pouting with his full and rosy lips. His deep wide green eyes almost shining with unshed tears. The older brother huffs loudly and after muttering a ‘did not’ storms back to the clear where he was supervising his drone. 

The woman finally caves and scoops the boy in her arms, pushing his blonde locks out of the way while whispering sweet words into his ear. 

“Aden, you can’t get upset every time your drawing book gets dirty with something. _Especially_ when you draw in the middle of the forest, the lake… you know, baby? You need to be more careful and let's avoid your brother for a bit. You know how he sulks whenever we come to the lake house to spend the summers.”

The little boy seems to calm himself with his mama’s words, however, a timid sniffle is audible.

“I don’t understand, mama, this is beautiful, and we always have a good time here. We play hide and seek, we swim… it’s nice.”

The mother chuckles softly. 

“Well, sweety, I will remind you of this conversation in ten years.” 

“What’s in ten years?” 

Green eyes squint with confusion.

“You’ll be Jack’s age. You’ll be too cool to hang out with mama and I won’t be able to squish you like that,” she says while giving him a mama bear hug, “and I’ll be the old mama who knows nothing about the world.” She finishes with an adorable pout. 

“That won’t happen. EVER!!” the boy shouts happily. “You’ll always be my mama.” 

Madi chuckles at herself because, seriously, it’s adorable how cute kids are when five years old. However, she cringes a bit, remembering how Jack used to be like that too. Unfortunately, puberty happened. Well, she’s still got time. Even though her oldest will attend college next Fall, she is happy to know she can enjoy some more years of being ‘the best mama in the world’.

Absentmindedly, she strokes Aden’s hair when she sees her mother getting out of the house with two enormous glasses of orange juice. Aden is too engrossed with his drawing to realize his nana is next to him.

“Insurmountable? Really, mom?” 

Before the older woman can reply, Aden jumps out of her mother’s arm to hug the woman’s legs. 

“Nana _Leksa_! Look, I made two news sketches. Look! Look!” 

The green-eyed brunette gives her grandson a very soft smile, the one that makes her eyes almost shut and makes the surrounding crinkles more visible. The one that was once reserved only for Clarke. She lowers herself on the blanket next to them. 

“Ok, Peanut, show me your work of art.”

* * *

“Lex, it’s impossible to fix all these boxes in here. There’s not enough space!” 

The brunette smiles softly from her favorite spot in the living room. The day has been productive for her. She finished the project that took many nights in the last five months. If she was being honest, she did the last finales touches. Again. She can’t help to ‘finish it’ and many hours later finds the necessity to change, perhaps a comma. She can’t help it. Lexa always was and always will be a perfectionist. 

Clarke completely adores when Lexa gets in ‘her zone’ and spends many hours drawing with a pink tongue peeked outside her mouth in deep concentration. However, at that moment, the doctor is way too close to losing the little patience she claims to have. She is trying to put away the food; cans and boxes she brought from the grocery store into the cabinets. She may have bought a little too much stuff. Just like Lexa warns her will happen. But if someone were to ask her, she’d deny it until her last breath. 

“Should I say, ‘I told you so’ before _or_ after helping you, love?”

The blonde quickly wears a giddy smile the moment she hears Lexa referring to her with the pet name. No matter how long has passed, she will always get that feeling. The sensation you get when you’re about to ride a great roller coaster. She’s lost on cloud nine when she shakes the head and realizes Lexa is telling her ‘you were wrong, and I was right’. She hates that. Her beautiful wife knows it, and that’s why she’s currently teasing her. 

Lexa gets up from her favorite love seat and goes to the kitchen, where she finds Clarke mumbling angrily to herself while unsuccessfully trying to fit too many boxes of cereal into a tiny cabinet. 

“Well, it’s not my fault you have all these stupid boxes of protein shit!” the blonde sasses grumpily because at the core of it; the woman is stubborn. 

“Well, I need my protein shakes every morning, dear, and by the way, I don’t see you bitching about that when you grate cheese with my amazing 6 packs.” 

Clarke stops in her tracks and looks up to the brunette hanging on the counter. She scoffs loudly because, really? How can her woman go from shy and cute to frat boy that fast? 

“Excuse me? Did I get myself into Alpha Phi Alpha without realizing it? Am I back in college?”

Lexa maintains her façade and moves her eyebrows suggestively. 

Such a dork. 

Lexa blows a kiss to her favorite blonde and finally goes around the kitchen island to sit beside her. She organizes the boxes herself. Clarke might be good at fixing people, but Lexa is good at fitting pretty much everything in. Clarke knows that’s why she quickly moves aside and lets her do her thing. 

“Did you know that Nintendo originally didn’t want to include Tetris?” she says as she pulls out all the boxes and containers, placing them neatly on the floor so she can start over.

She hums the famous tune, “its theme song is over 100 years, old, Clarke. A remake of Korobeiniki, a Russian folk song from the 19th Century!” 

She’s now almost done. Unsurprisingly, everything fits perfectly. Clarke watched Lexa; totally enthralled with the brunette. She can’t believe the same woman who was humming an old song from an 80s video game while rearranging cans of soup, is the same one who was bragging ten minutes ago about her abs. 

Polpetta barges in the small kitchen without a care and interrupts them. She is trying to catch the women's attention with low whimpers and growls. Both Lexa and Clarke know what that means, and with a soft smile, Lexa nods toward the bedroom.

“It’s your turn, Mrs. Griffin-Woods.” 

Clarke was already on her way out of the kitchen, dutifully followed by an excited Polpetta in tow. Lexa gets up from the floor once she puts everything in place and prepares their dinner. Despite Clarke’s love for cooking, and she’s usually the master chef, Clarke admits defeat with Italian cuisine. And since tonight’s choice is lasagna and tomato bruschetta, Lexa is the one in charge. The brunette is slicing some vegetables when she feels a soft hand on her shoulder.

Did we say something about her favorite blonde? Well, not quite. Not anymore. 

At least not the only one. 

“Here you are, little one. How’s my baby girl doing? Did you sleep well?”

She says as she drops the knife and washes her hands, ready to pick up her toddler from Clarke’s arms. Giddy laughter reverberates around the room when she secures her daughter around her hip. The toddler gushes and palms her mother’s braids, apparently too excited about it to pay attention to Lexa’s silly faces. 

In the meantime, Clarke remains next to the kitchen island, watching her girls with a goofy smile. To this day, she still can’t believe how blessed she is to wake up every day with such a perfect family. 

“My God, she really has you wrapped around her little finger,” Clarke teases.

“It’s like sometimes you really forget that there is another blonde girl trying to get a kiss from you in this house,” she says while pouting at her wife.

Lexa gives her a hearty laugh, the one that Clarke has learned to love so, so deeply. And still, with her daughter in her arms, Lexa approaches Clarke and gives her a sweet and chaste peck full of love and devotion. 

“I can’t believe you’ve got jealous over your own daughter.” 

Clarke pouts again.

“Am not! I was fishing for compliments and kisses, Mrs Griffin-Woods. Totally legal! Did you start at dinner, my love? I don’t think you will make anything with Helena in your arms. Do you want me to take her to the living room for a while or should I cook tonight instead?” 

As if sensing her mom was about to take her away from her mama, Helena pouts giving the brunette cute puppy eyes.

In what world could she say no to eyes like these? 

Azure like her mother’s. 

She’s just a mini Clarke with adorable blonde curls and round cheeks. Lexa hasn’t been able to say no since the first day she held the baby at the hospital. After twelve exhausting hours of labor, Clarke was dead tired, but it wasn’t easy for Lexa either. The brunette was not aware of how much strength Clarke had. Lexa ended up with both hands crushed and a broken finger. Also, dear Lord does Clarke have a potty mouth. Thank God the baby was too small to make their mother put some money on the swear jar. But overall, she was extremely proud of Clarke. 

Now, said bounce of joy was grabbing Lexa for dear life. Clarke doesn’t mind a bit. She knows and understands the effect Lexa has with Griffin women. Since the first day, she knew that Helena will be a mama’s girl. However, she finally got her daughter and let her wife free to make dinner. 

The doctor takes the chubby toddler to the living room, happily followed by Polpetta, who has become a shadow of the little girl and sits in front of the fireplace to play with some blocks. Because Helena was not only mama’s girl but perhaps the next architect of the family. She spends literally hours playing blocks with the brunette. 

Later, after dinner, and with the little one asleep, they continue the conversation they had that morning in the precious and rare moments between the alarm clock and the toddler screams for breakfast. They won’t deny it. Most of those ‘rare and precious’ moments used to have more vigorous and pleasurable activities. However, this morning they cuddled together with some lazy kisses here and there and talked about the coming Thanksgiving with family. 

“Mom made me promise that we will stay over the weekend. She even went to the store and bought some air mattresses for the rest of the gang.” 

“That’s nice. So, it will be her, Marcus and his daughter Mia, Raven, Anya, Octavia, Lincoln, the kids and us. Right?” 

“Oh! She also told Indra.”

“Ok. That’s thoughtful. How come your aunt isn’t coming this year?” 

Clarke’s eyes widened, remembering something. 

“You know what? I forgot to tell you! She texted me the other day saying that she was going to freaking New Zealand.”

Lexa looked at her like she grew two heads.

“Remember, she started talking with that guy from the fiction site she loves a year ago? Well, he came to work a couple of months ago and they clicked and one thing led to another one and he invited her to his country. And she’s going!”

The architect laughs so hard she sheds a few tears. Her wife gives her an amused smile but after a few seconds, she grows more serious and almost with a whisper she asks her wife, “Are we telling them during the holidays, or should we wait until she’s here?”

Lexa leaves the cup of tea on the coffee table and opens her arms, letting her wife cuddle almost on top of her. Once safely tucked, she softly untangles Clarke’s wild curls. The blonde purrs and totally relaxes into her wife’s body. 

They fit so fucking perfectly. 

“I think we should just surprise them, you know? I know your mother knows already, so perhaps, we could wait for more. The social worker said she will be here a couple of day before Christmas Eve.”

Clarke hums in agreement. 

“I wonder how she will be. Will she like us? Will she love the bed we got for her? Maybe we should get more clothes.” 

Lexa senses Clarke’s distress and tries to calm her wife. 

“She will be loved. We will learn of her and from her the same way she will learn of us and from us. That might take time but, we will do whatever it takes to help Madi feels safe, loved and part of this family.”

* * *

The sunset fades and with it the warm temperature. Now that the sun is not above the lake, the weather is chilling outside the house. The green-eyed brunette knows that she should get up and get inside before she catches a cold. She knows how obsessive her mother is with them. People would think having a mother as a doctor has its perks, and well maybe it’s true, but still, God forbid you if you try to ditch a school day saying that you don’t feel good.

She and her sister had tried before. 

A few times. 

Today has been a weird day. She was experiencing a lot of feelings being pushed together. Feelings she was trying to understand. She knows her mothers and sister are inside patiently waiting for her to calm down and have this conversation, but she can’t help but wait. 

It’s not that she didn’t know that they adopted her. It was obvious from day one. She remembers the day like it was yesterday. Two days before Christmas. She had been bouncing from foster house to foster house for more than a year. Some foster parents were wonderful, and some of them - not so much. They didn’t take the time or the effort to understand the scared little girl that was Madi. 

She was two and a half the day two police officers knocked on the door of Mrs Eve, interrupting them from their lunch. Her dad went to work and left her with their neighbor. She was a lovely lady who always spoiled little Madi rotten with delicious and unknown Korean candies. That day wasn’t any different from any other until the officers came and, hushing something that made Mrs Eve upset and sad, took care of another man who smelled funny.

She never went back to stay with Mrs Eve. The man that smelled funny, had awkwardly told her that her dad was in heaven, which was a very nice place but sadly far away so he wouldn’t be able to see her again for a little while.

After that, she moved from house to house. Some of them had other children, but they were often mean because Madi was shy and quiet. The more time passed, the quieter she got until one day where she stopped talking altogether. 

What was the point if nobody was there to listen to her?

That was until the last home she got. It was a super cool house on the lake, and Madi wouldn’t be honest if she didn’t admit that that was the first thing that caught her attention. 

The house was literally on the lake! Like floating!

Her new family was different, comprising two women, their daughter and a dog. 

One woman, the one with brown hair and glasses, was quieter than the other one but was also funny. Not that Madi would have admitted it, but she saw the brunette, Lexa, dancing with the dog and the child every morning. And it was kinda funny. 

The small child’s name was Helena. She barely talked, and that was nice since she wouldn’t be asking Madi a lot of stuff. She seemed ok and was always pushing her toys to play with her. That was new too. 

Then it was the other woman, the one with the yellow hair. She was louder and messier. Clarke, that was her name, was always wearing clothes similar to the people who work in hospitals, so she must be some kind of doctor. When she stayed at home, she was all goofy and funny. Madi realized how the blonde woman was always looking at her from the corner of her eyes, like wanting to make sure she was there but without disturbing her peace. 

But, if Madi was really, really honest, her favorite companion was the little dog. Her name was Polpetta, and she was always following her or Helena, like some kind of guardian. When Madi was by herself, she sometimes touched the soft and warm fur of the animal bringing her a lot of peace and calm. 

The best part about this family was that, since day one, they didn’t force her to talk. Clarke explained to her they were fine with Madi talking or not, as long as she was healthy and happy. 

It was a couple of months later that Madi said her first word in what it felt like forever. It was a simple ‘thank you’ to Lexa when the woman offered some fruit. Lexa didn’t react differently and just replied ‘you’re welcome, sweety’ like she has done that before a hundred times before. However, from that day, Madi started opening up herself with her little family. 

Madi felt a single tear while remembering her adoption into the Griffin-Woods family was. It’s been eleven years since that day, and she couldn’t be happier and prouder of her mothers and sister. That was until her mothers sat with her and explained how a woman, who claimed to be her biological mother, had tried to contact her. 

She shivers, remembering the uncertainty in her mother’s faces. 

It was time to go inside and have that talk. 

As soon as she enters, she feels four pairs of eyes looking expectantly at her. 

“Hey baby, are you cold? You should have worn a sweater. It’s cold outside. Come here and sit near the fireplace, I don’t want you to get sick.”

That was, indeed, Clarke. 

“Moms. I think I’d like to talk to you about something.”

Lexa invites her to sit next to her with a small pat and a warm smile. She wants her baby to be comfortable. Madi sits between her sister and Lexa, while Clarke sits in front of them with Polpetta. 

“We know you’re still young, you’re barely sixteen years old. However, we know how mature you’re, so we believe that you’re the one who has to think about what is best for you. We will help and support you, whatever you decide like we always did and always will. I—I just want you to know, well, that I know—we know, this is a big decision and we don’t want you to regret anything.” 

Clarke was painfully rambling around like a madwoman trying to defuse the situation. 

“I know mama, I’ve been thinking all afternoon and I think—I am not ready to do it. To meet that woman. I’m not saying I never will. But I want to wait, at least until I’m over eighteen to decide. I definitely want some answers from that lady, and I won’t deny her a chance to explain herself. Everybody deserves that. Just—”

Clarke smiles at her encouragingly while Lexa softly makes circles on the back of their hand to relax her, just like she did when she was a small girl and felt overwhelmed. Her mother’s touch always soothes her. Helena, though, is nervously biting her lips, avoiding eye contact with neither of the three women. 

“… I’m just not ready to take that step. I’ve got you and for now, it’s all I need—”

Before she can’t finish the sentence, a loud thud is heard and suddenly a flash of blonde wild curls is on top of Madi hugging her for dear life. When she realizes what is happening, she sees her sister sobbing and whispering thank you repeatedly like a mantra. 

Lexa and Clarke are both in shock. First, they’re still amazed by how adult their little girl sounded. Madi not only took the news incredibly well but also made a mature decision. And they will support whatever she decides. Second, she failed to see how nervous and upset Helene has been all day. The youngest of the family barely ate or spoke throughout the afternoon, and now they can clearly see why. 

“Hey, hey, Lena.” Madi softly whispers trying to detach from her sister to look at her face. “What’s going on? Are you alright?”

Helena quietly moves from her side and wipes her tears.

“I was so scared,” she says. Her azure eyes are sad and puffy around the edges, “I thought you would leave us.”

Clarke intervenes, “It doesn’t matter if Madi’s biological’s mother comes back to your sister’s life. She is part of this family, you hear me?”

“Exactly, sisi. Did you really think I would leave you? And what, have a better room? No way! You’re stuck with me!”

With that, the four women laugh until Lexa, being her goofy self, start yelling.

“Family huuuuuuugggggg!!” and literally tackles her daughter to the floor, where Clarke is already waiting with an eager Polpetta.

* * *

“I hate you! I hate you with all my heart!” 

_Yikes_. 

“Mama told me I could go on the camping trip last week!

“I don’t care what your mother said. Helena, you’re not going on the camping trip. Period.” 

The end of the warning goes unheard, however, as the teenager storms out to her bedroom. The brunette takes a long breath, trying to calm herself. She thinks that if she closes her eyes and spurs some memories, she can still see her little warrior with her chubby and short legs walking around the living room, taking absolutely everything from the floor and putting it into her mouth. It could go from a block to one of Polpetta’s toys to a shoe. And God helps them when the kid was outside because she had also tried to eat leaves and stones. Despite those were hard times, this, THIS, was like pulling out the teeth that had come out so painfully when she was that chubby toddler. 

Puberty. Puberty was a bitch. 

Lexa’s memories of better times are interrupted by her favorite blonde. She was the only blonde now since her other favorite blonde had dyed her hair purple. 

Purple!

WHATEVER. 

“Baby, what’s going on? I came home to find a grumpy wife and a grumpy daughter.”

A deep scoff. 

“Well, do you want to know what happened, _Clarke_? I had to find out during my sparring match with Linc this morning that _my_ daughter was going on a camping trip next weekend with her friends!” 

A very indignant Lexa says. 

Clarke runs her hand through her hair and sighs, looking at her with her signature stern look on her face. 

“My love, we talked about that last week. We agreed to let her go with her friends this summer. She will be seventeen in a few months, she’s a straight-A student, body president and a responsible and sweet girl and—”

“Clarke! Friends as in MALE FRIENDS. There will be boys! BOYS!! With seventeen years old, _Clarke_. Wait. There’s more. Guess who I found out is going too? John Murphy! You know that kid is trouble!”

Before the brunette can suffer a panic attack her wife interjects.

Damn, take a chill pill, Lexa.

“First, I don’t even want to know how you found out who’s going. What were you expecting? A camping trip just with girls? That was your dream, Lexa, but not everybody’s else. Besides, baby,” the blonde grabs Lexa’s hand, trying to break the brunette’s defenses. “You know, Murphy is a good kid. He’s been here a few times. He’s nice. Polite. And respectful. He’s a bit sarcastic, just like you, by the way, but he’s a good kid,” she says with a pleading look.

“I-don’t-want-him-near-my-daughter!” 

Suddenly, a door is burst open, and the replica of an angry Clarke joins her mothers. 

One angry Clarke is ugh. Two? Run, Lexa, run.

“You didn’t even try to make an effort when he was here!”

Clarke knows hell is about to break loose. The brunette gets up and with a full commander voice sasses back.

“Well, that’s because you’re not allowed to date until you’re older!!”

“I’m seventeen!” 

“Sixteen!”

Clarke tries again. Now she’s using her Dr Griffin-Woods voice. 

“Ok. Everybody calm down now,” she says with a clear stoic voice. The girls stop in their tracks. “You,” she points to her daughter, “I want you to apologize to your mother right _freaking_ now for talking and acting like a spoiled, impolite child. That’s not the way you were raised and certainly, that is not the way you should talk to your mother ever, ever again. Am I understood?” 

Helene looks at the ground, ashamed.

“About the camping trip, your mother and I will talk this through. You never gave us a reason not to trust you, but this behavior certainly doesn’t play in your favor.”

The teenager nods again. 

“May I go to my room?”

A sharp nod from the doctor is enough. 

Once on their own, they sit at the table with cups of tea. Lexa is patiently waiting for Clarke to scold her since she knows her behavior and reaction was way out of proportion. So, she raises the white flag. 

After dinner. 

And getting ready for bed. 

You know, like hours later.

“She’s my little baby, ok? She’s not allowed to date until she’s fifty!” 

She stubbornly counters back from nowhere.

Not exactly a white flag, Lexa.

A loud snort comes from an amused Clarke. The blonde perfectly knows how her wife is feeling. The blonde still remembers a couple of years ago, when Madi left for college, how she used to find Lexa waking up in the middle of the night getting up from their bed and going to Madi’s bedroom. At first, she didn’t want to let her know that she knew. One night, however, Clarke joined her wife, and they spent part of the night remembering silly stories about their children’s childhood.

The first day Madi came home when she was a scary four years old. It took them a couple of years to make the little brunette comfortable enough with them. It was a given that Helena helped a lot. The girls bonded from day one.

The first day of High School when Lexa went all commander and briefed her little warriors to prepare ‘for battle’. 

The soccer tournaments. Let’s say Clarke and Lexa got really, like, really excited cheering for the girl. Clarke even took the effort to design a matching t-shirt for the entire family. 

And of course, the day she left for college with unshed tears after her mother helped her to pack the car. 

Luckily for Madi, she wasn’t that interested in dating at all, so Lexa had quiet and calm High School years. Now, free of her mother’s scrutiny, she was showing more interest in her love life. Last Thanksgiving, she brought home a ‘special friend’ called Dylan.

Needless to say, he sweated bullets and even though Lexa gives him a hard time every time they see each other, she’s slowly and surely starting to tolerate the fact that her daughter has a boyfriend. She will deny it until the end of the world that she might even like him a bit. 

Now, this was another story. Helena was too young. 

“Love, we can’t place our daughter in a small bubble, hoping she stays still forever. She’s almost seventeen. We already had partners at that age. It’s a normal thing. She will always be your baby, but she needs to learn how to live by herself. She needs to mess things up and take responsibility. Grow up.”

Lexa bites the inside of her cheeks, a scowl furrows her brow like a child that doesn’t want to admit defeat. 

“She was making grabby hand gestures to be picked up like two minutes ago, _Clarke_!” 

Clarke’s mouth quirks slightly in amusement. 

God, how she loves this woman. 

She then leans to her side and takes her wife’s face between her hands, locking cerulean with green. 

“We did it, baby. We have a wonderful, healthy, perfect and loving family. They might leave from time to time, but they will always come back to us. As we did and will always do.” 

The following day, Lexa was doing some dabbles when she finds out she was sketching one memory she is fonder of. It was a summer day, and the girls were playing next to the shore with Polpetta happily barking next to them. Clarke was taking a picture of them, and Lexa was looking at the image from the mailbox.

How her life has changed. 

Lexa was, as Clarke took the photo, taking a mental photograph.

That would be Polpetta’s last summer. That silly dog that came to her life plastering red prints all over the footbridge, passed away in the following winter at almost sixteen years old. She was surrounded by her girls. The four of them. Quietly sobbing next to the fur friend that started this crazy journey together. 

Lexa’s eyes watered a bit, remembering that day when she feels the dip of the couch. 

Intense blue eyes look back at her. They’re sad and a bit puffy from crying. 

“I’m so sorry, mama.” a few small tears falling free. “I didn’t want to talk to you like that. I—I was just frustrated and got overwhelmed. But I couldn’t ever hate you, you know? I don’t need to go to the camping thing. We’ll stay here and go on hikes and do nerdy stuff.” 

Lexa fights back the tears and almost suffocates her daughter with a mama bear hug. 

Aghh, Lexa, you big softy!

I’m not crying. You are!

Clarke stays in the shadows, leaving her stubborn daughter to bond with her mother. 

“Clarke, you can join us, you need not be moping and sulking in the corner.” 

Helena giggles when her mom erupts from the corner and joins the hug, making them fall off the couch.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For my next story, I will be needing a new BETA. 
> 
> So, if there is any anglophone willing to lend a hand with correcting some spelling, grammar, etc. Please, let me know. The sooner I find the proofreader the sooner we get the new fic.
> 
> I need someone who takes their task at hand seriously.


	19. Epilogue: A lifetime

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Perfect Sundays are for: couch, blanket, coffee and the last chapter of The Lake House. 
> 
> This fic wouldn't have looked so fancy without the help of underthecovers. Thank you from the bottom of my heart.

Epilogue: A Lifetime

Clarke has been crying for days now. It doesn’t matter if she’s working at the hospital, grocery shopping or doing the laundry; as soon she remembers what’s going to happen in a few weeks, she can’t help but shed a few tears. 

Luckily for her, she has her wife’s support in this difficult situation. 

Ok. 

Maybe not.

“Clarke! Stop hiding in the utility room! I promise I won’t make fun of you anymore!”

The tall and lithe brunette enters the room and finds her wife lost in her thoughts ironing one of Helena’s favorites t-shirts. 

Narrowed cerulean eyes observe the architect, clearly contemplating her next words. 

“How in the world am I the one having a hard time with this situation and you. _You!_ The one who used to cry every time one of the girls said ‘ah’ is now perfectly fine with the idea of our baby abandoning the nest, Lexa. The _nest!_ ” 

Lexa gives her blonde a soft and warm smile and gets closer to hold hands. 

“My love, she’s just moving two states away to study her Master’s. She will come back. You heard what she said the other day, she wants to follow Anya’s footsteps in our company since “she’s the badass architect ever.”

“What can I say, Anya grew on you.”

“Yes, like a nasty skin rash,” mumbles the brunette while exaggerating rolling her eyes. 

Clarke knew how her daughter always got the best of her wife picking on her about the young architect choosing her auntie as a mentor, and not her mother. It can’t be said Lexa was disappointed with the decision since she knew Anya was a hell of an architect, but a part of her was a bit sad about it. If somebody says the disappointment has a tinge of green to it, she would deny it! 

“Anyway, that’s the circle of life.” 

“That’s right, Rafiki.” 

“ _Clarke_! Don’t make fun of me.”

“Sorry, babe,” she says, bestowing her lover with a big hug.

“And don’t think for a second, I don’t know about you hiding here and there sulking with the fact that the babies left the nest.”

Clarke grows serious again and with a deep and raspy voice says, “They _live in you_ … the question is _who are you._ ”

“ _Clarke_! Stop making fun of me quoting Rafiki!” 

After Lexa’s whines, both women let out a bark of laughter and go to the kitchen to make dinner.”

* * *

One cold and rainy day in December they were calmly watching TV when Clarke interrupted the silence and made an unusual proposition. 

“You know what? We should make the most of it.”

“About what, Clarke? The pint of ice-cream you just ate? Because if that’s what you’re talking about, let me tell you it’s too late to make the most of anything. You already ate the pistachio pint by yourself!”

“Ouch! Stop it, you big baby! You said you didn’t want more, so I ate it. Besides, there is vanilla ice-cream in case you want more.”

“There’s no such thing as vanilla ice-cream, Clarke. You ate it too the other day!” 

The blonde woman shakes her head in utter shame.

“Did I? I’ll buy you more tomorrow, my love. Anyway, I was talking about our time. We should make the most of our time. I know we haven't had the chance to travel as much these last few years. I know that when we did it was with the kids and domestic flights. How about we go around the world. I still want to visit so many places.”

“Are you talking about leaving everything and traveling around the world? Doing a 'Pray, love and eat?”

The brunette isn’t 100% sure if her wife is messing with her or not. 

“Well, not quite. I’m talking about stepping down from work and making, perhaps, a couple of trips a year. Luckily for us, we have the means. And by the way, you changed the order. It’s: 'Eat, pray, love'”

Lexa ignores the last jab and thinks for a few seconds about the serious proposition. She can't help but see the excitement in Clarke’s. So, with a mischievously smile adds.

“You know what? You get to pick first. Let’s do it!” 

The following years were spent with the couple taking small trips to places they always wanted to visit.

Clarke took the habit of buying travel postcards from every place they went but kept it secret from her wife. 

* * *

_‘Dear love,_

_I’m not quite sure if receiving this postcard will really surprise you. You know I can’t hide anything from you. You just read me like an open book. A couple of months ago we decided that, after many years focusing on our careers, we would take a step back and make as many memories as we can._

_Anyway, I decided to buy postcards from every place to go and write down a few goofy lines or some memories about the trip. I fell in love with you by letter. So, this is somehow a way to take you back to the start._

_You fell in love with Australia. I loved how fucking beautiful you looked the day we went to the natural reserve and you, stubbornly I may add, decided to climb that tree so I could take a picture for the girls to see ‘how badass I still am, Clarke’. I bet the Aussie sunset has never looked that stunning before and never will after that day._

_Ps. I do remember as well the nasty scrapes you got on your arms trying to detach yourself from that tiny koala._

_Yours,_

_C.’_

* * *

_‘Dear love,_

_You-are-such-a-nerd! How can you know that many things about Scotland? Are you secretly Scottish? You even upset the tour guide because you couldn’t stop correcting him on random facts. In the end, the small group of Chinese women started to listen to you, instead._

_Edinburgh in Fall is spectacular, darling. Thank you for doing that ghost tour! I knew you were terrified but acted tough for me. My hero! Although my favorite moment was when you almost fell into the Ness Lake and hours later with a few glasses of wine, you couldn’t stop telling everybody how you almost fought the Loch Ness Monster._

_Ps. I won’t even pretend I didn’t fall in love with my beautiful wife trying to talk with a Scottish accent. That was hot. We could make some role plays with Viking Lexa._

_Love,_

_C.’_

* * *

_‘Dear love,_

_It’s been seven years since we decided to start this adventure. You know it’s been a very difficult year for me having to step back from the OR. I won’t deny I’ve sometimes got too much time on my hands now. However, I’m enjoying the part-time job at the local college and, above all, all the time I’ve got to enjoy all the painting. I’m now able to create._

_The City of a Hundred Spires was always a dream to visit, and you surprised me last Christmas with this trip._

_Our selfie kissing at Charles Bridge will always be one of the dearest images of my life._

_Ps. Also, you doing that little dance mimicking a chicken in front of Fred and Ginger’s building because ‘it’s known as The Dancing House, Clarke, and I’m dancing!’ cracks me up every single time. I absolutely love how you so effortlessly make me laugh._

_Love,_

_C.’_

* * *

‘Clarkey, I’ve missed you!” 

The Latina engulfs her best friend in a very tight hug. 

“Hey, Raven. I’m sorry we’ve been off the radar these last few weeks. We went to Galena to spend Saint Valentine's day.”

“Aw. I can’t believe you guys still do shit like that after one hundred years married.”

To be completely fair, our perfect couple hasn’t been married for that long. Nevertheless, it’s true, Lexa wanted to do something special for their anniversary, which was on Valentine’s Day. The day they met. Twice. 

The couple hit their 35th year of marriage in February. It was a big deal and the brunette wanted to do something special. Since they preferred to keep the trip domestic, Madi proposed to make a small trip to Galena because, according to Google, it was one of the most ‘charming small towns’ in the state. 

“Well, I still love my wife with the same intensity as the first day, so it’s only fair to treat her like the queen she is.” 

Lexa joins the conversation having heard the end of Raven’s mockery. The former architect sits beside her wife and offers her a glass of water with lemon, just as Clarke loves it. 

Raven sees that and after a soft tsk with her mouth, she then turns to her partner, since they found the necessity to get married, and pinches her arm. 

“Anya! Why don’t you take me to a lovely and charming town in the middle of nowhere for our anniversary? It’s only fair!”

The stoic blonde looks at her sister like saying ‘Do you see what I have to go through?’

“Well, that would be because you wouldn’t hold yourself in a lovely town in the middle of nowhere for more than seven minutes, darling,” the ever-serious former architect replies. 

Anya stepped down from the company, although from time to time she would swing by the office along with her sister and make the interns pee themselves. According to the blonde architect, it was the only way you can teach those motherfuckers to endure the toxic environment of the corporate world. 

_Seven minutes? That was quite specific._ Clarke wonders. 

“So, professor Griffin, how are my students treating you? Do you give away extra points to Gryffindor this week?”

“For the last time, Reyes, I’m a Slytherin and I’m a fair educator so no, I don’t give extra points away to anyone who doesn’t deserve it.”

“Aw, you’re so boring. Hey, by the way, you won’t believe who’s my brand-new intern slash slave for the next 9 months?”

“Surprise me”

“Raella Collar”

The last name sure sounds familiar to Clarke.

“Isn’t that?”

“Yep!” says a very excited Raven.

What a surprise, indeed. Raella was Gaia’s and Echo daughter. After Clarke and Gaia cleared the air, the bleach blonde took the things incredible fine, giving the circumstances. She knew from day one that Clarke was not ‘all in’ in their relationship and once they both talked about it, neither did she. After a couple of years, the short-haired girl was invited to Clarke’s birthday, which who she had a nice and lovely relationship, and there she met Echo, who used to work with Lexa at the construction site. It turned out it was love at first sight. The girls started dating and well a few decades later they were still going strong.

“Oh my God, it’s been years since the last time I see her. I think she was fresh out of college. Well, I’m very happy for her and I’m sure she will do a spectacular job. I know how well her mother’s did raising her.”

* * *

For a couple of years, they have stopped travelling abroad since they were more tired. Both of them have reached a certain age. 

They still insisted on doing different things and maintaining their couple life stayed as dynamic as possible. They both spend a lot of time at home. They’ve grown used to having the house in total silence again. It wasn’t easy. Sometimes when Clarke was contemplating the sunset through the floor to ceiling window with a cup of tea, she swore she could still hear two kids playing in the background and cute little barks from a dog that wanted to play along with them. 

Lexa started writing a science fiction novel about an apocalyptic world ruled by warriors with no tech. 

Helena has taken over her mother in the firm, with the help of her business partner and cousin Illian, son of Raven and Anya.

Madi works as a vet in Rockford, two hours west. She normally visits with her family every few weeks and during holidays. 

While Madi got married and had kids, Helena decided almost since she started working that she would likely remain single. From time to time she has partners, but for her; independence was much more important than ending up with somebody. 

She wasn’t averse to the possibility, per se, but at 35 she was happier than ever. For the architect, it was more than enough to have the love her family brought her. Especially her nephews, whom she deeply loved. She was the cool aunt. But that was pretty much all the experience she wanted to share with kids. And everybody was fine with that. 

About our favorite couple, well, It was said before, they were still happily sharing their life and creating more and more memories. 

“Hey, love, where did you go?”

Forest green pierces sky blue ones. 

Clarke couldn’t believe how, after so many decades together, her pair of green eyes get so soft and full of love every time she looks at her. 

“May I serve you a cup of tea, my dear?” the brunette says with a silly British accent that has her wife laughing. 

“That would be fantastic, babe.” 

When Lexa turns around to head to the kitchen, she hears her wife trying to catch her attention too, “Hey, what was that call you were attending? I thought I heard you say the name of the rascal.” 

“That's right. The girls called to organize the next visit for Labor Day.”

Clarke immediately cheers up with the possibility of seeing her children and grandchildren.”

* * *

“So, what do you like about my drawings, Nana Leksa? I want to build houses too! No! A castle! I want to build a castle!” 

Lexa laughs and it makes her eyes crinkle and her tongue peek out. 

“Well, I don’t know, Peanut.” 

At that moment, she sees a small figure coming from the house with a tray with cookies. Her face is full of crinkles and her hair isn't golden blonde so much now as it is silver. Her eyes, however, are still bright and full of love. 

“Nana Clarke, isn't this painting a wonderful piece of art?”

The former doctor sits, with great difficulty it might add, next to her family and holding close the paints adds, “What a beautiful image, my love. Oh, my, oh my. Isn’t this one our house, Peanut?”

“Yes, nana! That's right. It’s the lake house!” 

The kid giggles melt everybody’s heart. 

And without taking their eyes from their grandchild, their search for each other and when they do, Clarke squeezes her wife's arm softly; and Lexa takes and kisses the back of her wife’s hand.

No words are needed. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for this incredible ride. A few years ago, I wouldn't imagine myself writing fanfiction, much less in English. Despite I've grown myself a bit disappointed and sad with certain news this year, truth is Clarke and Lexa are better than that. Their story is much bigger than that. That's why I am very happy to humbly contribute with new stories to this spectacular fandom.   
> 
> 
> You guys voted for the next fic. I will start working on it next week. 
> 
> For my next story, I will be needing a new BETA. So, if there is any anglophone willing to lend a hand with correcting some spelling, grammar, etc. Please, send me a message. 
> 
> Stay safe and may we meet again.


End file.
